The Right Direction
by Tonks Ozog
Summary: Neville has loved her for years, Hermione has no idea. One drunken night will change that. But as their relationship changes, all is not as it seems and danger approaches... [NOT COMPLETE - APP ERROR!]
1. chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

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Something was definitely not right.

That was Hermione's first thought as she woke up on the morning of the day that would end up changing her life. Even before she had opened her eyes, she could tell that she wasn't in her own flat, purely because while her own sheets were soft and floppy, the ones that were wrapped around her at that point were anything but. They were rough and scratchy, not cheap but definitely not the high end Egyptian cotton that she was used to. The sounds that floated toward her ears were wrong, too. Rather than hearing the birds singing in the tree outside of her own bedroom window, she could hear the approaching clattering if a train coming down the track, closer and closer…

She winced as the train apparently took a route directly through her brain, at least that's what it felt like to her. Lying still and stiff on the lumpy matress, Hermione slowly lifted one eyelid and peered around the room, noticing that the walls were dark and panelled, sparsely decorated with various moving portraits. Well, at least that gave her a clue as to her whereabouts, she supposed, knowing that she wouldn't be seeing moving paintings if she were in Muggle London. So, she was in Wizarding London, most likely, which meant that she was quite probably in a room above the Leakey Cauldron.

Now that she had the where answered, Hermione figured that she should probably focus on gaining some answers to the why and, most frighteningly, the who. Why? Because she had realised that she was completely and utterly naked, no scrap of clothing left on her. Apparently, whoever she had brought back to this dingy room had been in rather a hurry to shed her of unnecessary barriers, because as she slowly glanced around, she spotted a trail of discarded clothing going from the door to the bed. It was also accompanied by random decorations and lamps that appeared to have been knocked down at some point or other, probably in the mad rush to find some kind of release.

With a sigh, Hermione carefully began to turn her head, attempting not to move any other part of her body for fear of waking up the unidentifiable lump that was still sleeping next to her. As odd as it may seem, Hermione's brain made the brilliant observation that at least this man, or at least she rather hoped and assumed it was a man from the bits of suit that lay with her own discarded clothes, didn't snore. It seemed like such a random thing to notice that Hermione snorted quietly as she ever so gently moved her body so that she was facing the lump. Then, having never been in this situation before and having no idea what the hell she was supposed to do or how to act, Hermione froze.

She closed her eyes, trying to force herself into thinking logically for a moment. She was absolutely certain that there had been sex, quite rough sex too if the ache between her thighs was anything to go from. That and the fact that this man was a wizard were her only solid pieces of knowledge. Suddenly, just as Hermione was steeling herself to reach out and wake her companion, a brainwave hit her and if she hadn't been so worried about waking him up, she would have groaned out loud at her own foolishness.

The invite, of course!

Each person who had attended the ministry ball the night before had needed to keep their invite with them at all times, in case of emergency or suspicion that people had arrived without one. Her own was still in her clutch, presumably somewhere in the room, so his must be… Somewhere among his clothing. Ron had always kept things in the inside pocket of whatever jacket she was wearing, so as she carefully and silently rolled out of bed and reached for some kind of clothing, rolling her eyes as she picked up a large men's shirt and thinking what a cliche it would be for him to wake up and find her wearing it, she stood and looked back at the lump to check that it didn't appear to be waking.

Once satisfied, she tiptoed away from the bed, trying desperately to remain as quiet as possible. However, when she put her foot down on a particularly squeaky floorboard and heard the shuffling of sheets behind her, she froze midstep with wide eyes as her heart hammered in her chest. When no voice came, she turned her head very slowly, half expecting to find the unidentifiable person frowning or glaring at her but let out a sigh of relief to find that they simply appeared to have wrapped the blankets more tightly around their body. She took another step, making certain that she avoided the squeaking board, before coming to rest in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips.

"Jacket, jacket…" she whispered to herself under her breath as she turned her head around the room, "where the bloody hell did he put his- Oh!"

Her gaze fell on the trail of clothes and she followed it back, wincing as she found that her bra appeared to have been quite literally ripped from her person, to find something black hanging precariously from the corner of the dresser. Taking a quick look back at the lump in the bed to make sure it hadn't woken, she crept forward until she was within touching distance before she reached out and grabbed it, pulling it towards her and grinning to herself in a private moment of celebration. It wasn't to last, though, as when she rifled through the pockets, the only thing she found was a wrapper from Weasley Wizard Wheezes and a ticket stub from a quidditch match that she had been to herself the week before.

So there was no ID, admittedly, but if the ticket stub was in this jacket, surely that meant that the lump would have been wearing it at the game? She held it by the shoulders and held it aloft in front of her, tilting her head to the side and squinting as she tried to recall whether she recognised it, but to no avail. If she had seen the jacket before, she didn't remember it. Not that that was surprising. It was, after all, merely a black suit jacket that presumably matched perfectly with the trousers she had already spotted hanging from the frame of the four poster she had woken up in. With a sigh, realising that she needed to look in the trousers, Hermione turned and carefully trod through the mess as she approached the bed.

The trousers proved a little more useful, though she still found no ID after she had pulled them down from the railings. In the front pocket she found a piece of parchment with something unreadable written on it, telling her that this lump had terrible penmanship but also triggering something in her mind that told her she was familiar with the writer. At the very least, she had seen this handwriting before, not that that narrowed down her options much, considering that she had seen writing coming from almost everyone who worked at the ministry, not to mention fan mail that she still got, unbelievably. In the back pocket, though, that was where she found the one thing that she had been desperate to find:

A name.

There was something thick and hard in the back pocket as Hermione felt around the trousers and when she reached into the hole, her hand came into contact with what felt to be a book. She frowned as she pulled it out, carefully laying the trousers down on the side of the bed she had come from, before looking down at the plain brown leather that encased the wrinkled pages of what she assumed to be a notebook. Around it, there was brown twine that held the pages and, apparently a few loose pieces of parchment, together. Glancing at the lump and finding it not to have moved, she untied the string and the book fell open, revealing more of the same unreadable writing and a loose piece of parchment.

Even though she squinted, Hermione could make neither head no tail of the writing in the actual book and decided that it was probably her best bet to look at the loose piece. She pulled it out before closing the book again and tucking it under her arm, then she slowly began to open the folded piece, frowning deeply as she found a different handwriting, this one almost as familiar to her as her own. It was a handwriting she had seen hundreds if not thousands of times in the many years since she had first met it's writer. It was Harry's. Her head throbbed as she caught sight of one sentence that made her feel both confused and sick to her stomach.

'…this is your chance to tell Hermione how you really feel, Nev…'

As she reread the sentence, her hungover mind began to process it and it felt as though she had been hit by the Hogwarts Express as everything fell into place at precisely the same moment. The handwriting was familiar because she had seen it many times, but it was so long ago that her slower than usual brain hadn't connected the dots. She knew with absolute certainty that Neville had been at the match last week because she had bloody well spoken to him there! The notebook, she had seen before but had never held in her hands because it was the one item that he always, without fail, carried on his person.

Feeling absolutely sick and overwhelmed with the need to cry or shout or collapse into a catatonic state, any would do if she were honest, Hermione threw caution out of the window and began to rush around, picking up all of her clothes and hurriedly pulling them on in a way that she was sure would tell the entire story of her evening to anyone who saw her. She didn't even turn around as she heard the sheets rustle behind her, while she frantically searched for her bag and found it under the sofa, turning toward the door and all but running straight for it. The last thing she heard was a shout that emanated from the room she had fled, followed by the very obvious noise of a fist colliding with plaster.

"FUCK!"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

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After flooing home to her own apartment, Hermione took the quickest shower of her life before casting a precautionary contraceptive charm on herself. Her mind felt like it contained the thoughts of the entire population of Wizarding Britain, she had so many thoughts whirring around inside of it, but she knew that one thing was certain. Somehow, last night she had hooked up with Neville Longbottom and she couldn't even remember a damn moment of it. She had never been so angry with herself in her whole life, how could she had gotten so unbelievably drunk that she could have sex and remember nothing? That was a question that she could ponder later, though, for she had another person with whom her anger was aimed.

After dressing in what she would call her 'comfy clothes', essentially a pair of black jeans and red jumper, Hermione quickly pulled her still wet hair into a rough ponytail and stormed through her flat until she was in front of her fireplace, debating with herself where she was most likely to find Harry. It was, technically, a work day, though most people had had the common sense to book the day off because they knew that ministry balls always ended in far too much drinking. Harry had never had that much common sense, though, so she finally decided that she would probably find him hungover at his desk rather than at home and grabbed some floo powder, stepping into the fireplace before throwing it down and disappearing.

She reappeared in what appeared to be an abandoned ministry, though there were two or three tired and slightly green workers milling about. Her own hangover seemed to have abated, but she was positive that it was merely her anger that masked it and the full effects would hit her later on. Provided it was later on enough that she could confront her scheming best friend, though, Hermione did not care one bit. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for a lift to arrive, before stepping in and repeatedly jabbing at the button for the Auror floor, as though it would make a blind bit of difference to how quickly she got there. She was very thankful that there was no-one else around to see her slam into the doors when the lift suddenly shot backwards.

She got quite a few strange looks as she barged past the reception desk of the Auror department, but thankfully no-one intervened. Hermione was a fairly frequent visitor and she was trusted by the head of the department to only visit Harry's office, without looking at any of the case boards that may or may not contain confidential information. He needn't worry today, though, because Hermione had no intention of glaring anywhere other than at her best friend. Her assumption about his lack of common sense had been correct, it seemed, because when she loudly and abruptly slammed open his office door, she found Harry slumped over the desk with his head resting on his arms.

"You bloody git!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping him around the head and recieving only a grunt in return, "what the bloody hell happened last night that I would wake up in the Leaky bloody Cauldron next to-"

"Wait," Harry muttered, finally looking up at her and frowning, "you shagged him?!"

"Well I assume so!" Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and pacing the room as her glare focused on him, "judging by the fact that we were both naked and I feel very thoroughly shagged!"

"Too much information-"

"Oh no," Hermione snorted, shaking her head and jabbing a finger towards him, "too much information is finding a letter from you to Neville, telling him to tell me how he really feels. Would you care to explain that, Harry? Because quite frankly I'm a little bit fucking confused right now!"

Harry's eyes had grown progressively wider as Hermione ranted, as had the volume of her voice. By the time she had finished talking and stood before him, her hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised, Hermione was breathing heavily while Harry looked like a Deer in the headlights. Hermione, feeling proud of herself for having even the smallest amount of patience, stood and waited for him to answer, but Harry seemed lost for words. He merely gawped at her with his mouth opening as if he were going to talk, but closing again, repeatedly until he sighed and scratched his head.

"Now listen," he started and Hermione rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to go on, "I know that this is all a bit weird right now-"

"Oh no, it's perfectly normal," Hermione scoffed, glaring at him, "I always wake up with random friends with no recollection of the sex we've so obviously had."

"Will you just be quiet and let me explain, please?" Harry asked tiredly and Hermione nodded, grunting in annoyance as she collapsed into the chair opposite him, "and don't tell Neville that I've told you this, he'll bloody kill me."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, "the last Neville saw of me was my back quite literally running away from him."

"Wonderful," Harry groaned, taking his glasses off and throwing them down on his desk before dragging a hand down his face, "the long and short of it, is that Neville has been in love with you since we started the DA."

"Well, now I know that this is some elaborate prank," Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes, "I'd have kno-"

"You said you'd listen to me, Hermione." Harry sighed.

"I said no such thing."

"Will you listen, please?" Harry begged and Hermione sighed.

"Fine."

"It's the truth whether you believe it or not," he told her and Hermione rolled her eyes again, "he's been too scared to say anything to you because, in his mind, you're 'too good for him', his words not mine. He thinks you'll laugh in his face."

"And what?" Hermione sighed, biting her lip, "you've been, what, encouraging him to tell me?"

"Since you and Ron broke up, yes." Harry said bluntly and Hermione frowned.

"Why, Harry?" She asked, disbelievingly, "even if all that you're saying is true, when have I ever shown a romantic interest in Neville?"

"When he-"

"Harry, every woman in the wizarding world fancied Neville when he beheaded that bloody snake," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes once more, "name one other time."

"I can't," he shrugged and Hermione nodded, "but I know you, Hermione. If he came up to you and asked you out for dinner, you'd say yes just so you didn't hurt his feelings."

"Or because I would assume it to be a dinner between friends, which is what Neville and I are, Harry. We're friends," she told him, leaning forward on his desk, "that's all we've ever been."

"To you, perhaps," Harry nodded, sighing as he pulled open his top desk drawer and pulled out a pile of envelopes before throwing them down in front of her, "if he ever knew that I'd let you read them, I don't think he'd ever talk to me again, but those are the letters that he's sent me over the last few months for advice on how to approach you."

Hermione frowned down at the pile of envelopes before reaching out with a shaky hand and picking them up, pulling them closer to her and flicking through them. The first, dated the day after she and Ron had broken up almost six months before, was wrinkled and blotchy as though it had, at some point, had a drink spilled over it. The last was dated the day before yesterday and Hermione frowned up at Harry, who nodded and gestured for her to open one. With a sigh, she picked up the first letter and took out the piece of folded parchment, unfolding it and squinting at the messy scrawl, barely able to make out what he had written.

Harry,

I know it might be a bit odd for me to ask you this, but is Hermione ok? I read in the Prophet about what happened and I'm so worried and sad for her.

You remember what I told you, the same night we talked about my parents in the ROR? Those feelings haven't gone away, Harry. I think that what was only a crush then has become me being completely in love with her and I just want to know she's ok. I feel like it won't help if I approach her myself.

If there's anything I can do, please let me know. All I've ever wanted is her happiness and for Ron to have done that… I want to kill him.

Neville

Hermione had her hand over her mouth, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she looked up to find Harry smiling sadly at her. She sniffled as she folded the parchment and slid it carefully back into its envelope, putting the pile back on the desk. Her mind, previously so crowded with thousands of thoughts that races around at a mile a minute, was now focused solely on one thing. She had left Neville, who had probably been incredibly confused, without saying a single word to him and she felt sick with shame and guilt as she looked disbelievingly up at Harry.

"What the hell happened last night, Harry?"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

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 **The night before**

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Despite the almost constant stream of alcoholic beverages that had been handed to her by waiters and subsequently drunk, Hermione was finding it utterly impossible to make the evening less painful or humiliating. Ron, even though he had promised he wouldn't do anything that would hurt her, had entered only minutes after her, but he hadn't been alone like she had. Oh no, Ron had arrived with a beautiful blonde woman, all legs and not an inch of fat, glued to his arm. The ring that adorned the fourth finger of the blondes right hand seemed to catch the light on purpose, as if to spite Hermione. All of this was bad enough, but to top everything else, Hermione knew what the boyfriend stealing bitch looked like naked and it made Hermione feel like crap.

This woman, this unbelievably beautiful and effortlessly sexy woman, had been the sole cause of her break-up with Ron, mainly because Hermione had come home from work early one afternoon, feeling quite sick, only to find her boyfriend in bed and that woman bouncing up and down on him as though he were a trampoline. Obviously, Hermione had done the only thing that had felt right at the time and thrown the cheating bastard out of her flat, just after she had thrown the blonde out. And now here they were, engaged and having the time of their lives while Hermione attempted to drown herself with firewhiskey and whatever else she had been given.

"He's a fool." Came a loud voice from next to her and the world spun as Hermione turned to see Neville frowning down at her.

"Yeah right," she snorted, shrugging and gesturing towards the couple drunkenly, "look at her. Legs that never end and tits the size of my face. He's not a fool for choosing her, I'm a fool for ever believing he would choose me."

"Are you drunk?" Neville asked, his frown deepening as he pulled a chair in front of her.

"Not drunk enough." she groaned, gesturing to the scene being caused by her ex and his fiance as they snogged passionately, not caring who saw and Hermione, wanting to erase the image from her mind, snatched the drink from Neville's hand and downed it in one gulp.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Neville exclaimed, his eyes wide as she slammed the glass on the table, "that was straight whiskey! Take it easy, yeah?!"

"I need to wake up tomorrow," Hermione slurred, pointing at him and raising an eyebrow, "and not remember a damn thing about…. THAT!"

She pointed behind Neville to where Ron now had his hands very obviously and completely unashamedly up the woman's dress, probably fondling the beautiful bitch's arse. It wasn't fair that there were women as beautiful as that out there while Hermione seemed to have skipped that day during creation. She had normal legs, with knobbly knees and wobbly thighs that perfectly complemented her slightly squishy stomach. Her tits weren't pert and bouncy, they were just kind of... There. Hermione seriously wanted, as she watched the man she had always dreamed of marrying stick his tongue down another woman's throat, to be someone else. Someone better. Someone beautiful.

"You are beautiful," Neville sighed and Hermione gasped, covering her mouth as she realised she had spoken at least some of her thoughts out loud, "like I said, he's a fool."

"Is he though?" Hermione asked, snatching a glass of what may or may not have been champagne from a passing waiters tray, "comparing me to her is like comparing a flobberworm to a unicorn, there's no comparison."

"Depends on how you see unicorns," Neville shrugged, taking her drink from her and putting it out of her reach, "if you ask me, unicorns are all shiny and sure, they look pretty, but that's all there is to it, really. They're like horses in drag."

"What?" Hermione snorted, breaking out in giggles as Neville chuckled.

"A flobberworm, however," Neville continued as Hermione laughed, "it's not conventionally beautiful, no-"

"It's a bloody flobberworm! They're hideous!" Hermione cackled, clutching her stomach as the sudden laughter gave her a stitch and Neville shook his head, grinning.

"Nah, not to everyone, just because they're not all sparkly and don't shimmer in the sun, doesn't make them any less amazing. Beauty is only skin deep, after all. It's what's in here that makes you who you are," he told her, reaching forward and tapping the side of her head before sitting back again, "for instance, when Ron introduced me to that bint, she asked Ron what Herbology was."

"No!" Hermione gasped, eyes wide as she slapped a hand over her mouth and Neville snorted, nodding, "oh god, that's… Well, It's not great."

"When Ron explained it, she didn't really understand and just assumed I… What was it…?" Neville frowned for a moment before his eyes widened and he clicked his fingers, "oh yeah! She asked if I 'study the seasoning of food'."

"Oh come on," Hermione snorted, shaking her head and putting a hand on Neville's knee, not noticing when his eyes immediately turned down to look at it, "no-one can be that stupid."

"She is and so is Ron," he shrugged, sighing as Hermione felt his hand fall on top of hers and frowned as she felt it shaking, "there's a difference between being attractive and being beautiful, Hermione. To be beautiful you need everything there, intelligence, looks and a heart of gold. There are very few people in the world that have all of that."

"I know." She nodded, sighing and Neville snorted.

"No you don't, you have no bloody idea!" He laughed and Hermione frowned as he stood up, pulling her with him by the hand, "you have no idea how beautiful you are and you have no idea how fucking stupid Ron is to let you go."

"I'm confused." Hermione muttered and Neville groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I'm in love with you, ok?" He blurted and Hermione felt her jaw drop as far as she thought humanly possible, "I've been in love with you for bloody years and I hate that you think yourself not worthy."

"I'm way too drunk for this…" Hermione muttered and Neville nodded, pulling her against him and she whimpered as his hands came up to cup her face, forcing her to look at him.

"You've won't remember any of this in the morning, right?" He asked as his eyes flicked between hers and Hermione shook her head, knowing what he said to be true, "good. Then you won't hate me for this."

The next thing Hermione knew, he had roughly pressed his lips against hers and she whimpered as she closed her eyes, her fists clutching at the front of his shirt. The world was spinning as he sucked her bottom lip between his and the gasp it pulled from her allowed him to invade her mouth with his tongue, massaging hers and rolling around it expertly. All logical thought, or what little remained after the massive amount of alcohol she had consumed, fled from her mind as she moaned into his mouth and pulled him backwards until her back was firmly pressed against the wall before she pulled away and stared wide eyed up at him, both of their breathing ragged.

"Find a bed and take me there," she instructed and Neville sighed, his thumbs rubbing her face as she read his uncertainty, "please, Neville. I need this."

"Hermione, I can't," he groaned, shaking his head before resting his forehead on hers, "it's bad enough that I've done this. If we… Well, I can't take that back."

"I don't care," Hermione told him, moving her hands up his chest and snaking them around his neck until he moaned as she tugged at his hair, "please, Neville."

"I'm going to regret this," Neville muttered, his eyes hesitant but filled with desire, "are you sure?"


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

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"Jesus Christ, Harry!" Hermione gasped, clutching at her head as she sat bolt upright, "what the hell did you put in my tea?!"

Harry had told her, when she had asked him what happened the night before, that it was a conversation that was best suited to be had in the privacy of Grimmauld Place, so Hermione had followed him there through the floo. He had been prepared with a cup of tea and gestured for her to sit down, sitting opposite her as she sipped from her teacup. She remembered being overwhelmed with tiredness before the entire previous evening had run through her mind as though it were a movie. Basically, Harry had spiked her tea and that was very risky indeed, considering how angry she was with him already.

"Calm down," he sighed, rolling his eyes, "it was just a memory boost potion. The Auror department uses it on people who black out during their crimes."

"Great," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms angrily over her chest, "so now I'm being treated like a criminal."

"Don't be stupid, Hermione," Harry muttered, shaking his head, "do you, at least, remember now?"

"Of course I bloody do!" She snapped, covering her face, "I remember in startling detail how Ron showed up with his whore and I begged Neville to sleep with me. Oh, I remember, alright."

"Good," Harry sighed with relief, "so now what?"

Hermione made to answer immediately, but something made her pause and she frowned as she closed her mouth. It was a good question. What was she to do, now that she remembered every word Neville had said and how unbelievably heart warming those words had been. Not to mention, she now had a precise and detailed memory of the desperate, passionate encounter that had occured in the room at the Leaky Cauldron. She had felt things that Hermione didn't think she had ever felt, experienced such highs that, now that she remembered them, she wanted to repeat. But that was last night, before this morning, when Hermione had literally ran away from facing him.

"What can I do?" She eventually sighed, shrugging, "I don't think he's going to want to see me again, letalone talk to me. Harry, I actually ran away."

"You panicked," Harry shrugged, smiling slightly as he threw a letter to her and it landed in her lap, "it's addressed to you, so I haven't read it, but you should."

Hermione frowned as he gestured to the envelope before standing and leaving the room, pulling the door gently closed behind him. Now that she was alone, Hermione sighed shakily as she tried to control all of the emotions that had built up inside of her. Now that she remembered everything, she could clearly recall how Ron had flaunted his new wife-to-be in front of her and how upset she had been at the time, but now that she looked back on it, their actions seemed insignificant when compared to what had happened that night between her and Neville.

She looked down at the envelope and picked it up, trying to calm her hands and stop them from shaking so that the already hard to read handwriting wasn't made impossible to decipher through her blurry, tear filled eyes. Her name was written on the envelope, a line underneath and a single x, which she supposed signified a kiss and she sighed as she turned it over and pulled open the envelope, carefully pulling out the folded letter and opening it, laying it flat on her lap.

Hermione,

There are so many things that I want to say and so many things that I should say, but in truth I don't even know where to start this letter except with saying that I'm sorry.

In the interest of full disclosure, I've loved you for a very long time, I think. At least since you had the idea for the DA, but knowing me I felt something for you before that and didn't know it. Anyway, you were so strong and determined that day at the Hogs Head, do you remember? I've never seen you as stunning as you were then, leading the charge and making everything right like you were born to do just that. I think I fell in love with you then and there.

It's something I've lived with since then and if you never want to see me again, then it is something I will carry on living with.

I'm not going to put any pressure on you or try to guilt you into meeting with me. You do whatever you want to do and I will support that, but you need to know that everything I said at the ball and afterwards was true. You are beautiful Hermione. To me, you're the single most beautiful woman who has ever walked the earth, far more beautiful than any Unicorn.

Even if you don't want to talk again, then I will always think of last night as one of the most fantastic and wonderful nights of my life and I will always count myself lucky that I had you, even just for those few hours.

If you do want to talk then owl me and I'll be there, wherever and whenever.

Neville

By the time Hermione had reached the bottom of the letter, she was openly sobbing and gasping for air at the sheer amount of love and affection in each word. It wasn't something that she had ever been at the receiving end of and she didn't know what to do with the new information. She had thought that he would be mad at her for her actions that morning but he hadn't even mentioned it, the letter she held in her hands seeming to be more of a thank you than anything else. Hermione clutched the letter to her chest as she choked out a harsh cry, bending over her knees as she cried. She didn't hear the door open, but she felt Harry's heavy arm as it wrapped around her shoulders.

"He thinks…" she sobbed, gasping for air as Harry sighed, "he thinks that I never… that I never want to talk to him... I don't..."

"Hermione," Harry said gently, slipping down and crouching in front of her, "how do you feel? About Neville?"

"I don't know!" She cried, holding the letter tightly in her hands, "before yesterday he was just my friend, now I can't think of anyone else and I don't know whether I'm going bloody mad!"

"Do you want my advice?" He asked and Hermione sniffled, nodding, "you need to talk to him."

"How can I-" Hermione started but Harry held his hand up, stopping her.

"If you don't think you can talk face to face, then write," he shrugged and Hermione sighed as he pulled some parchment and a quill from the table behind him, "let things calm down and if you still feel whatever you're feeling, then you can meet him and see what happens."

"When did you get so smart?" Hermione muttered and Harry snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's been known to happen from time to time," he chuckled, looking into her sad eyes, "you ok?"

"I think so," she sighed, nodding, "I'm going to go home and write to him."

"Floo me if you need anything, alright?" He asked as they stood, pulling her in for a hug, "even if you just need a hug or a chat, got it?"

"Got it," Hermione chuckled as she hugged him tightly, "thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

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When Hermione returned home from Grimmauld Place, she honestly did try to write a letter to Neville, but no matter how hard she tried the words just wouldn't come to her. How was she supposed to write down how she was feeling when she was so horribly confused herself? On one hand, whenever she thought back to the night they had shared, her stomach filled with butterflies and a shiver ran down her spine when she remembered the words he had said so lustfully as they explored one anothers bodies. In truth, Hermione desperately wanted to know how it would feel to be with him without the haze of alcohol, but she refused to allow herself to imagine it, as every time she did, it left her with a feeling of dread that hit her in the pit of her stomach.

That was the other side of her thoughts. Hermione, though she adamantly denied it whenever it was mentioned, had been so hurt by Ron's actions and it had scarred her. Every time she allowed herself a moment where she pictured her and Neville even so much as repeating their night together, her overactive brain sent images of heartbreak and upset. Ron had been such a close friend that she had never, not in a million years, expected him to do what he did, but he had. Surely, if he could hurt her like that then what was to stop Neville, or anyone else for that matter, doing the same. Hermione, usually so logical and able to think clearly, had been damaged and she was terrified of allowing that to happen again. It just wasn't worth losing another friend, especially Neville.

The Wednesday after the ball arrived accompanied by an overwhelming amount of anxiety on Hermione's part and as she arrived at St Mungo's, where she was the assistant head of the Janus Thicky ward, she knew that at some point that day she would see Neville for the first time since running away from him. Every Wednesday, come rain or shine, Neville came to visit his parents on her ward and where previously it had been something that she had looked forward to, today she just didn't know what to do with herself. How would he react to her, or for that matter, how would she react to seeing him? She just knew that it would be horribly awkward and there was no way he would come to her office for a cuppa as he usually did upon leaving his parents.

Hermione couldn't help herself as her eyes repeatedly flicked to the clock that morning, counting down the minutes until visiting time arrived at noon. As the time approached when she knew Neville would arrive, her heart began to hammer and she had to physically keep herself from hiding in her office so that she wouldn't have to see him, but she also knew that if she didn't face him now then she probably never would. Her nerves were shot when the clock chimed twelve and the usual visitors began to file in, moving to the beds of their friends or relatives while Hermione headed to the healers station to fill out her mornings paperwork. She couldn't help but look up every time the doors opened though, finally catching sight of the tall, dark haired man she had been equally looking forward to and dreading seeing.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that he looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and his usual stubble had grown longer, but despite this her heart raced when he turned, catching her eye across the ward. Not knowing what else to do, she smiled nervously and she saw him sigh as he lifted a hand as though to wave but changed it's route at the last minute and ran it through his hair. Hermione sighed, overwhelmed by sadness as she watched him approach Alice and Frank, sitting opposite them and, presumably, telling them about his week as he always did, but he wasn't as animated as he usually was. Instead, he spoke quietly for a few minutes before seeming to fall silent.

Her eyes were glued to him the whole time as she stood, debating whether or not she should approach him but her fear and nerves won out. The two hours of visiting time passed painfully slowly and just as two o'clock rolled around, Neville stood and kissed both heads of his parents before he turned to leave, his eyes once again meeting hers. Hermione's heart was in her throat as he seemed to move towards her but she either imagined it or he changed his mind again, because his gaze dropped to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck and began walking for the door. Feeling absolutely awful, Hermione was ready to let him leave when he turned and headed her way.

"Hey," he muttered when he stopped in front of her and Hermione could feel her heart beating violently inside her chest, "listen, about the other night-"

"Don't worry about it," Hermione blurted, wincing as a few of her colleagues turned to look at them, "I mean, I guess I should apologise really, considering how I... Well, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Should be me apologising, I think," he sighed, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, "it probably shouldn't have happened, so if you could forget about it…"

"You regret it?" She asked, frowning and he shook his head sadly.

"Not even a little bit," he mumbled, shuffling his feet awkwardly and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could ask him for a hug but feeling too ashamed to try, "I just don't want to lose our friendship over it."

"We're ok, Neville," Hermione said quietly, smiling sadly up at him, "seriously, don't worry about it."

He nodded, standing in front of her for a moment longer as though he had more to say before he sighed and turned away. Despite having now spoken to him, Hermione didn't know whether she felt better or worse about the situation. No matter what had happened, her friendship with Neville had never seen an awkward moment and to suddenly have no idea how to act around him left her feeling strangely empty. She sighed, watching the door close behind him and wishing more than ever that she could go back in time and take everything back, before she turned away and headed to do her afternoon rounds.


	6. CHAPTER 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

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Over the next few months, as the summer turned into autumn, Hermione made a conscious effort to greet Neville as calmly as possible whenever their paths crossed, which was often seeing as his parents were on her ward. She ignored the fact that just the sight of him set her heart racing, or how his lopsided smile sent a shiver down her spine, determined to just be happy with having him as her friend. Her heart ached whenever she let herself think of that night, but she knew that the risks were too great and kept her feelings, which were now far exceeding those of mere friendship, to herself. Life continued on as it always had, albeit with added sparks of desire between them that were not acted upon, until September began and Hermione awoke to a tapping on her window. She grumbled moodily, annoyed at being woken up in the middle of a rather pleasant dream about Neville, before pulling herself from her and letting in the owl, groaning as she discovered it to be Pigwidgeon.

"Oh, that can't be good." She muttered to herself, sighing as she tried to grab the still over excited owl from mid air.

When she had finally snatched the tiny bird, glaring at him when he bit down on her thumb, she clutched him tightly as she sat down at her dining table. Keeping one hand around him, she struggled to untie the letter, comically large when compared to the owl, from around his leg before she let him go and watched him fly out of her now open kitchen window before looking back down at the envelope now in her hands. It was made of heavy parchment, bleached so that it was almost white, with her full name in a declaratively curly script on the front. The flaps were sealed with a deep purple wax seal and Hermione frowned as she turned it around in her hands before slipping her finger under one of the flaps and unsealing the wax, swearing under her breath as the contents of the envelope were revealed.

"That complete arse!" She snapped to her empty flat, pushing away from the table and heading for the fireplace with it in her hands, throwing down some floo powder and calling out for Grimmauld Place.

When she stepped out, she could hear Harry and Ginny in the kitchen, accompanied by the sounds of their two boisterous little boys. In her anger, Hermione stomped through the hallway and threw the door to the basement kitchen open before approaching the table and throwing the invitation in front of Harry, who sighed as he turned to his wife. With wide eyes, Ginny nodded and gathered the boys before leading them from the room, leaving Hermione and Harry alone.

"Is this some kind of fucking joke?!" She hissed, pointing at the invitation now in Harry's hand, "is this Ron's failed attempt at humour?"

"Hermione-"

"How dare he even begin to think I want to be witness to that disgusting display?" She cried, hands on her hips as she began to pace restlessly, "what the bloody hell does he think he's playing at?"

"Herm-"

"I am long past the point of caring that we're not together any more, ok, I'm over it, but for goodness sake!" She exclaimed, rubbing her forehead with a hand, "this is such a Ron thing to do, I don't even know why-"

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted and she jumped around to face him, having almost forgotten she had interrupted his breakfast with his family, "sit down, will you? You're making me dizzy."

"What's he playing at, Harry?" She sighed, sitting heavily in the chair that Ginny had been in when she arrived.

"When did this arrive?" Harry asked, holding up the invitation and she snorted.

"Approximately two minutes before I arrived here," she shrugged, gesturing down to her pyjamas, "Pig woke me up."

"He sent it with Pig?" Harry asked, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow and she nodded, frowning, "the rest were sent out weeks ago. Using owls that the company has."

"So why the hell am I getting one now? Sent with his own damn owl?" She asked and Harry sighed, shaking his head, "I haven't even read it. When is it?"

"Next weekend," he muttered and Hermione gasped, her eyebrows raising towards her hairline as Harry nodded, "maybe it's a peace offering?"

"Really Harry?" Hermione snorted, shaking her head, "he personally sent an invitation to watch him marry the woman I caught him cheating on me with. Please explain to me how that could be a peace offering?"

"Well, it shows he wants you there?" He offered and she rolled her eyes.

"He wants to rub it in my face, you mean." She grumbled and Harry sighed, frowning at her.

"You don't know that," he pointed out she shrugged, completely convinced that she had the truth figured out, "look, I genuinely think that this might be Ron's attempt to build a bridge between you. Yes, I know it's misguided and quite a stupid way of doing it, but he does ask after you, Hermione."

"What, to see if I'm miserable enough?" She muttered and Harry groaned as he dragged a hand down his face.

"I really would like it if you went," he shrugged nonchalantly and Hermione glared at him, "Ginny misses you, you know and I miss you too. Plus, Neville is going to be there."

"And what exactly does that have to do with anything?" Hermione said defensively and Harry shrugged, raising his eyebrow.

"You tell me," he smirked, making her roll her eyes, "how are things with the two of you?"

"Ok, first off, you're changing the subject. I'm not stupid Harry," she said, jabbing a finger towards him, "and second, Neville and I are and always have been friends."

"Friends who a desperate to shag one another?" Harry asked and Hermione, shocked, choked on her own breath.

"Excuse me?!" She gasped and Harry laughed out loud.

"You know as well as I do how Neville feels about you," he pointed out, leaning forward on the table, "but what's more, is I know exactly how you feel about him."

"Yeah?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to stay as relaxed as possible, "oh please tell me how I feel about Neville, wise one."

"You love him more than you ever realised, but you're too scared to admit it even to yourself," he said evenly and Hermione, though she made a conscious effort to look nonplussed, felt her heart jump into her throat, "even if you refuse to acknowledge it, I've known you for a very long time, Hermione. I saw how you looked at Ron before you got together and I've seen how you look at Neville."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hermione muttered, shaking her head.

"Of course you don't," Harry chuckled, nodding, "I guess your heart doesn't race when you see him, either, right? Or you don't have dreams about him?"

"Please stop," Hermione whispered, looking up at Harry through tear filled eyes, "none of that matters. I could never let myself fall for him."

"Why? What's stopping you?" He asked and Hermione sighed, closing her eyes, "if you're worried about him leaving or hurting you, then stop. Seven years he's loved you and never said a word, because you were happy. He's not even attempted to pressure you since that night, because he knows that it would mean losing you if he did. You know him, Hermione, you know that he isn't capable of hurting anyone. Least of all you."

"You can't guarantee that," she sighed, wiping her cheek, "it could all end in disaster. What then?"

"What if it it didn't?" He countered and Hermione groaned, "Hermione, there are no guarantees in life. Ginny could walk out on me tomorrow, but I trust her enough to know that she wouldn't. You trust Neville, right?"

"Of course I do! I just…" she trailed off, standing from her chair and tucking it under the table, "I can't do this. I'll think about going to the wedding."

With that, Hermione turned and walked from the kitchen, completely ignoring his shouts from behind her. She knew that she was as stubborn as a mule, but she was entirely convinced that to act on her feelings for Neville would only end badly. What had happened with Ron had left her convinced that no-one could be happy with her, not if her best friend couldn't be. She wasn't good enough to keep Ron by her side and she wouldn't be good enough to keep Neville, either. She would rather keep him as her friend than not have him in her life at all, so she would keep her thoughts to herself. It was just the way it had to be.


	7. chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

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The next week passed in a blur of internal debate for Hermione as she tried to work out what to do for the best. If she went to the wedding, it would mean seeing the man she had loved marrying himself to someone else, which would surely be embarrassing if not painful. On the other hand, if she didn't go then it would be like admitting to him that she was still hurt by his actions, when actually she had long since moved on and her thought had been occupied by other things. By the end of the week, she had given up and decided that she would go, if only to just the ceremony so that Ron could see that she was happy for him, before leaving for her own flat to wallow in self pity and lonely misery.

As the Saturday of the wedding dawned, Hermione was already awake and pacing her bedroom as she tried to talk herself out of cancelling her attendance. Not that Harry would let her. If she even tried he would come to her flat and drag her there in her pyjamas, but she still desperately wanted not to go. She had been unable to sleep the night before, but not for the reasons you might think. She wasn't worried about seeing Ron again, which confused her to no end, but she was nervous of being in a similar situation to the ball again. Deciding that it would be best to just avoid being alone with Neville at all costs, she resignedly got herself ready and dressed in the deep blue dress she had picked out the previous night, before apparating to the point near the Burrow where Harry had agreed to meet her.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," Harry said when she reappeared, pulling her into a hug, "you look great."

"Thanks," she sighed, smoothing out her dress as she pulled away from him, "I almost didn't come, but I knew you wouldn't let me back out. I can't believe I let you talk me into this, Harry."

"You know it's the right thing to do," he said, smiling gently at her and offering his arm, "shall we?"

"I'd rather not," she snorted, but she took his arm anyway, "Harry... Can you do me a favour today?"

"Don't worry, I don't leave you alone with Ron." He chuckled and Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

"It's not Ron that I'm worried about," she muttered, fixing a smile on her face as they approached the gathering crowd of guests, "just make sure I'm not alone with Neville, please."

"What?" Harry frowned, turning to her, "why not? I thought you two were ok?"

"We are," she nodded, sighing as she pulled him to a stop and turned her entire body to stand in front of him, "if I'm honest, I'm not sure I trust myself around him. Especially not today."

"Hermione, why don't you just-"

"Just promise me, Harry," she sighed, begging with her eyes and he nodded, though he frowned, "I can't lose another friend, Harry. You understand that, right?"

"I guess," he shrugged, sighing, "I just think-"

"Hermione!" Came a shout from their left and Hermione turned, grinning when she saw Ginny just before the redhead leaped into her arms, "oh my god! I can't believe you came!"

"I didn't have much choice, to be honest," Hermione muttered, pulling away to glare at Harry, "besides, I kind of miss this place."

"Who wouldn't?" Ginny grinned, waving at someone over her shoulder, "who did you bring with you?"

"I was supposed to bring someone?" Hermione frowned, turning to Harry, who sighed as he looked at his wife.

"Hermione's invitation didn't include a plus one, love," he muttered and Ginny's eyes narrowed, making Hermione extremely confused, "so she's here on her own."

"That bloody bastard!" Ginny growled, turning to look around but Hermione grabbed her arm, forcing her to look her in the eye.

"What are you on about?" She asked, frowning deeply and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Look around you," she hissed, gesturing at the crowd, "everyone here has a date. Ron said he included a plus one! Even great aunt Muriel has a bloody date!"

"So let me get this straight," Hermione sighed, using her fingers to massage her temples, "I am literally the only person here that is alone?"

"Seems that way." Harry sighed and Hermione groaned.

"I knew he only wanted me here to humiliate me." she sighed, looking up at Ginny but catching sight of something over her shoulder that made her heart stop.

There were many emotions that ran through Hermione stared, wide eyed at Neville where he stood with a beautiful dark haired woman on his arm. Disbelief, anger, disappointment, hurt; they were all there and very much evident, but the emotion that overruled them all was shock. She was stunned silent by the way she thought her heart might break at the sight of him with someone else, shocked that it hurt so much. She had no reason to be angry or jealous, as she obviously held no claim to him, but the physical pain in her chest when he looked over and saw her staring at him told her that being with him would be worth the risk after all, but she had realised it far too late. It hurt like a bitch.

"Hermione," muttered Harry and she jerked her head to him as she felt his hand on her arm, "that's Neville's-"

"It's fine," Hermione croaked, clearing her throat and using all of her willpower to force a smile onto her face, "it's fine. I'm going to go and find a seat."

She didn't wait for Harry or Ginny to respond before she turned and headed for the large white tent that had been set up to hold the ceremony and reception. Keeping her head down, she fought to keep her tears at bay as her eyes stung, desperate to just get through the ceremony so she could leave. She found a seat and kept her gaze firmly on the ground as the rest of the guests slowly filtered in and sat with their respective partners, realising as the seats filled that there was an empty seat beside her that would have been for her plus one if she had known to invite one and if she hadn't been mortified before, she would have been when she saw the pitying looks that people gave the sad woman sitting alone in a room full of happy couples.

As the ceremony got underway and she was forced to watch her ex marry the other woman, Hermione wondered how her life had got to this point. Watching the man she had once loved so wholeheartedly marry someone else, the man she now believed that she loved in attendance with someone else and there she was, sitting next to an empty chair completely heartbroken. If anyone had been looking at her instead of the couple at the centre of the tent, they would have seen a single tear falling down her cheek, the only sign of her utter distress.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

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The ceremony had been rather annoyingly beautiful and Hermione had gone through the motions of applauding the newly married couple before attempting to make a hasty exit lest she completely fell apart. Her route was blocked by smiling couples though and at first she had politely moved aside for them, but as her desperation for escape mounted, she began to roughly push past them as she made her way to freedom. Just as the opening in the tent came into sight, Hermione was stopped in her tracks by the sight of Neville, guiding his date toward her direction with what looked like his hand on her lower back. Hermione felt her emotions start to win the race to escape as he turned, freezing himself when he saw her there and she blinked, staring into his eyes as her tears burst forth.

"Hermione," came a voice from her left and she turned to see Harry approaching, accompanied by the last person she needed to see, "Ron wanted to… Hey, are you ok?"

"What's up?" Ron asked and Hermione, her mind apparently choosing to vent some of its anger, glared at him as she wiped her tears away.

"What's up? Are you seriously asking me that?" She snapped, "you invited me here purely to humiliate me and guess what! It worked! Here I am, completely on my own in a tent with hundreds of fucking couples, just because you were enough of a fucking bastard to not allow me a plus one. Are you happy now?!"

"What-" Ron gasped, his eyes growing wide as Hermione's voice rose in volume.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed, cutting Ron off mid sentence, his eyes flitting to the crowd who had fallen silent as she shouted.

"Why did you even want me here?" She cried, throwing her arms out, "wasn't it mortifying enough for the whole world to know that I wasn't good enough for you? Isn't it enough to know that you've got the beauty and ditched the boring ex? What did you hope to achieve by doing this?!"

"I didn't-"

"I'm really happy for you, Ron," Hermione said, her voice now almost silent as her eyes watered, "but right now, I really have to go."

She sighed, keeping her eyes on the ground as she turned and walked out of the tent. She couldn't be here, around couples who only served to remind her how she had ruined everything with her fear. She definitely couldn't be around Neville and whoever the hell he was there with, a woman so beautiful that she made Hermione feel like a troll. Not knowing where to go, she picked a random direction and just kept walking until she was stopped by a body of water that prevented her going any further. Falling to her knees, she covered her face and wept.

Eventually, her tears dried up and she simply sat, staring out over the water and trying to figure out where everything had gone so wrong. She was almost certain that, if she hadn't so brazenly propositioned Neville on the night of the ball, none of this would be happening and she felt so much anger at herself for her actions. Far more anger than she felt for Ron for inviting her here to embarrass her. More than she felt toward Neville for moving on after making her love him. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, glumly watching the sun set, when she heard footsteps behind her and sighed.

"Please leave me alone." She sighed, not turning around or caring to see who had joined her.

"I don't think I should, somehow," came Neville's voice and Hermione, surprised that he had come after her, whipped her head around to look at him, "what are you doing out here?"

"Why do you care?" She muttered brokenly, turning away from him once more, "shouldn't you be in there with your date? She's beautiful, by the way."

"Of course I care!" Neville snapped and Hermione snorted, shaking her head, "I told you how I feel about you, Hermione. Why the hell would you think I wouldn't care?"

"Seems you've moved on well enough," Hermione sighed, looking down and playing with the grass in front of her, "found someone far better than me, haven't you?"

"You mean Anna, right?" He asked tiredly and she nodded, "Anna Longbottom, my second cousin on my dad's side of the family. Who, by the way, is only here because I'm too much of a coward to ask the one woman I wanted here with me, that's you by the way, and my Gran forced her on me at the last minute."

"Your…" Hermione trailed off, listening as he stepped closer and collapsed down on the grass next to her.

"My cousin, Hermione," he sighed, looking at her carefully before he muttered, "I haven't wanted anyone other than you for seven years, so why would I start now?"

"I saw you with her and…" she trailed off, rubbing her forehead with a deep sigh, "I feel like an idiot."

"You shouldn't," he shrugged, nudging her with his shoulder, "I have to admit, it was nice to see you lay into Ron. It's definitely about time."

"Oh god," Hermione groaned, dropping her face into her hands, "I've ruined his bloody wedding day!"

"I doubt it," Neville snorted, shaking his head, "last I saw, he was being thoroughly snogged in the middle of the dancefloor. Besides, he deserved it after the stunt he pulled."

"He's such an arse," Hermione sighed and Neville nodded in agreement, "I feel like today has been a complete disaster."

"Not completely," he smiled, nudging her again, "look, it's got us acting normal around each other again."

She nodded, frowning down at the grass as she realised that this was the first time since they had slept together that they had spoken without any awkwardness between them.

"I guess that's true," she smiled, looking up at him for the first time, "I'm really sorry for… Well, everything."

"It's not your fault," he shrugged, smiling, "I'm just glad that we're still friends, you know?"

"Friends," Hermione said, her voice cracking as a lump rose in her throat and Neville frowned at her as she sighed, "what if I don't want to be your friend?"

"Oh," Neville said, his face falling as he took in her words, continuing as he stood up, "I understand, I'll just-"

"No!" Hermione gasped, grabbing his hand and stopping him from walking away, "I don't mean like that, Neville. I mean… what if… well, what if I wanted to be more than friends?"

"Sorry?" Neville gasped, looking down at her with wide eyes, "Hermione, what-"

"I thought I could hide it, like you did and everything would be fine," she blurted, scrambling to her feet in front of him as he watched her in shock, "I thought that if I didn't admit it to anyone else, or myself for that matter, then I could ignore it and be able to live with being your friend. But seeing you and… Your cousin. Neville, it hurt! I don't know why, but it did!"

"I don't…" Neville croaked, dragging his hand down his face before looking at his other hand, still held in hers, "what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I haven't stopped thinking about you since we slept together and I've been driving myself crazy trying to stop, but I think I love you!" She cried, tears falling down her cheeks as Neville's jaw fell slightly open, "and hell, I'm still fucking terrified of losing you but if-"

Suddenly, Hermione was cut off by a sob and Neville yanked her toward him, crashing his lips down on hers. She whimpered against his lips as his hand came up to tightly fist in her hair, her own hands moving to desperately cling onto anything they could. As his tongue swept across her bottom lip, Hermione sobbed herself and Neville made an echoing noise as he pulled away, pushing his forehead against hers. For a while, they stood together, breathing raggedly as they held onto one another for dear life, before Neville cleared his throat.

"You haven't been drinking, have you?" He asked and Hermione snorted, shaking her head against his.

"No," she whispered, opening her eyes to look at him, "not this time."

Neville nodded and she felt his hand move to his back pocket as he reached, presumably, for his wand. She was expecting him to apparate them away, but she was surprised when he took a step backwards, before taking her hand in his and putting his wand into it. To allow someone else to use your wand was an incredibly intimate gesture, almost as intimate as sleeping together and Hermione looked up at him, stunned.

"I need this." He whispered and Hermione, a slow smile spreading across her lips, dropped the hand holding his wand to the side and pushed herself up to kiss him as she flicked it, apparating them directly into her flat.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

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The difference between waking up next to Neville the first time and doing so again a second time was as stark as the difference between night and day. As she woke up the morning after Rons wedding, Hermione felt a sense of overwhelming happiness wash over her, making her smile to herself as she rolled over to face the man who was still asleep beside her. As she watched him, she marvelled at how substantially her feelings towards him had changed since the ball, yet she still felt the same comfort from his company that she always had. Reaching out, Hermione gently ran her fingers through his hair and chuckled as he smiled in his sleep before his eyes slowly began to open.

"Hi," she whispered and Neville smiled after licking his lips, "how did you sleep?"

"Hmm," Neville hummed, slipping his arm around her naked torso and pulling her closer, grinning as he rubbed her back, "you mean the little sleep I got?"

"Whose fault is that?" Hermione snorted, running her hands over his sculpted abdomen, "I did suggest going to sleep long before you agreed, if I remember correctly."

"Hermione," Neville sighed, flipping so that she was on her back and he was hovered above her, leaning on his elbow as his free hand moved to every part of her body he could touch as he smirked down at her, "you are very naked and very sexy, I am but a mere man. Who am I to resist such tempting delights?"

"Very eloquent," Hermione muttered, gasping as his hand slid down between her thighs, "good morning to you, too."

"A very good morning." Neville snorted, before he proceeded to make her good morning an incredible one.

Some time later, Hermione watched as an unabashed and very naked Neville sauntered across her bedroom and into her bathroom to take a shower, leaving her to stretch her aching muscles in bed. As she spread out like a starfish, listening to the water running through the open door, she couldn't help but grin to herself. She had been worried that the connection she had felt with him their first time had been fuelled by her alcohol induced haze, but during their second night together and now this morning, Hermione had felt a closeness and almost synchronicity with Neville that she had never felt before. Not only did their bodies seem to move perfectly together, but their thoughts and emotions also seemed connected. It was this bizarre yet happy thought that was disturbed by the sound of the floo.

"Hermione?" Came Harry's shout from the living room and Hermione gasped, jumping out of bed and grabbing her dressing gown, which she'd only just tied when Harry walked into the room, "hey, I came to check- is that the shower running?"

"No, I performed a disastrous weather spell in my bathroom," Hermione deadpanned, keeping a straight face until Harry frowned and she laughed, "yes, Neville is in the shower."

"Oh really," Harry smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and Hermione snorted as she smacked him in the chest, "ouch. No need to get violent."

"Coffee?" Hermione offered, leading him into the kitchen when he nodded and using her wand to heat the kettle before pouring two cups, placing one in front of him as she leaned against the counter, "come on, let's get this over with."

"Get what over with?" Harry grinned and Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her own coffee.

"The 'I told you so' speech," she muttered, raising her eyebrow, "I know it's coming."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry smiled innocently, "but I did tell you-"

"What did you tell her?" Neville asked as he walked into the kitchen, kissing Hermione's temple as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and Harry, watching them, smiled.

"This," he said, pointing between them, "is brilliant. I thought I might need to lock you both in a room together before this happened."

"Gee thanks." Hermione snorted as Neville chuckled.

"Seriously, ask Ginny. I had a plan and everything," he sighed, shaking his head, "you've ruined it now."

"You could still try," Neville shrugged, both Hermione and Harry looking at him confused, "I can't guarantee that your furniture will remain innocent, but please, feel free."

"That is a horrible mental image," Harry groaned, frowning as Hermione laughed, "thanks for that. Seriously though, it's about time you two got your bloody acts together."

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After a day spent laying together in bed, where they had returned after Harry had left, Hermione dragged herself away from Neville to cook some dinner for them both. It didn't take long before she felt him come to stand behind her and his arms wrapped around her as she chopped some potatoes. As much as she tried to concentrate, she found it difficult to do so when Neville began to place gentle kisses on the side of her neck and she sighed, dropping the knife as she leaned back against his chest.

"Sorry," he murmured, sending a shiver through her as she felt his breath on her skin, "I just realised the time, I should probably head back to Hogwarts soon."

"Oh," Hermione gasped, her eyes widening as she turned in his arms to face him, "I completely forgot! What time do you need to be back?"

"I should probably be there before ten," he sighed and Hermione glanced at her clock, frowning when she discovered it to be half past nine already and Neville nodded, pressing his forehead to hers when she turned back, "I really would rather be here with you."

"I know, me too," she nodded, kissing him gently on the lips before pulling away, "how is this going to work, with you at Hogwarts?"

"We'll figure something out," Neville shrugged, "I can come here in the evenings, as long as I don't have patrol. Weekends too. Plus, I'm sure Minerva would love to see you around the castle."

"That's true," she nodded, smiling, "plus I'll see you on Wednesday, right?"

"Of course," Neville nodded, a slow smile spreading across his lips, "this feels like a crazy dream and I can't believe that I can finally say it, but I love you."

"I love you, too," Hermione grinned, pinching him on the side and chuckling when he flinched, "definitely awake."

Neville laughed, squeezing her around the middle as he leaned down and kissed her, lifting her onto the counter. After a while, Hermione gently pushed him away and told him to go and get dressed while she continued to prepare dinner, now a meal for one. When he came back into the kitchen, fully dressed in last night's suit, Hermione hugged him tightly, feeling strangely reluctant to let him go but knowing that she was being ridiculous, she pulled him into the living room and held out the jar of floo powder as they stood in front of her fireplace.

"Wednesday?" She asked and he nodded, pushing the jar aside and hugging her tightly.

"I don't want to go." He murmured against her hair and she nodded.

"I know, but real life beckons," she sighed as he snorted, "go on, get home or Minerva will send out a search party."

"True." Neville chuckled, kissing her lips before pulling away

Neville took a handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace. He waved before he threw it down and Hermione suddenly found herself alone in her flat, which felt so much colder without his presence. With a deep sigh, though she couldn't stop herself from smiling, Hermione headed back into the kitchen, knowing that her growling stomach wouldn't wait much longer.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

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When Hermione arrived in her office on Monday morning, she was surprised to see a potted flower on her desk with a piece of parchment tucked between it's leaves. She grinned, knowing that Neville was the only person who had any reason to send her flowers, especially potted ones, before rushing forward and pulling the parchment out of the foliage. She smiled softly as she read a single line.

'Miss you already. Nev x'

"I see you've gotten yourself an admirer while I've been gone," came a feminine voice from behind her and Hermione squealed, spinning around to see Madeline Tucker, the head of the ward and her boss, "guess who's back!"

"I've missed you!" Hermione cried, pulling the chuckling black haired witch into a hug, "I didn't know you were coming back?"

Madeline had been away from work on maternity leave for almost a year, which had left Hermione in charge of the ward and though she enjoyed it, the responsibility was definitely a heavy weight to bear. Her daughter, Eveline, was now about ten months old and Maddie had always said that she would wait until she was a year old before coming back to work, so Hermione was confused by her bosses sudden return.

"As much as I love Evie," Maddie sighed, clutching her chest dramatically, "there's only so much baby talk I can take and I desperately needed some adult interaction that wasn't Eric."

"I guess I can understand that," Hermione grinned, "it's good to have you back, Maddie."

"What's changed since I went off?" Maddie asked, turning to look out of the door, "the Longbottom's and Lockhart seem to be the same. Any other changes?"

Hermione spent some time going over the last few months with Maddie, telling her of any changes that had happened or new admissions. Thankfully, there was only one new admission in that time and the ward was otherwise home to only six other patients. When Hermione got around to Frank and Alice, she stopped as she suddenly saw Maddie smirking and rose her eyebrow toward her boss.

"You're blushing," Maddie chuckled and Hermione snorted, nodding, "don't tell me he finally came clean?"

"You mean Neville?" Hermione asked and Maddie nodded, "we're together, I think. It's very recent, although there was a night a few months ago-"

"You had a one night stand with him!?" Maddie exclaimed, looking desperate for some gossip and Hermione groaned, nodding, "oh you have to tell me that story!"

It took almost an hour for Hermione to get through the whole sorry tale, taking into consideration just how often Maddie saw fit to interrupt and ask ridiculous questions. Hermione, as she talked to Maddie, realised just how much she had missed her and actually, she was very grateful to have someone who was outside of her immediate circle of friends to talk to about everything that had happened. When Hermione finally got to Ron's wedding, Maddie grinned as she was told of how Hermione had shouted at her ex.

"There's no way he didn't deserve that," Maddie snorted when Hermione told her that she felt guilty for it, "after what he did to you, then inviting you just to make you look bad? Yeah, he deserved worse if you ask me."

"Well, hopefully his wedding day will hold better memories than me screaming at him," Hermione shrugged, smiling as she remembered how Neville had come after her, "so, you knew that Neville had feelings for me?"

"Hermione, anyone with eyeballs could see how that man looked at you," Maddie snorted, shaking her head, "honestly, I'm amazed that it took so long for him to tell you."

"What do you mean, how he looks at me?" Hermione frowned and Maddie, ever the comedienne, made a face that closely resembled a puppy who wanted a treat.

The day passed quickly after that, with Maddie taking over half of the workload and catching up with the patients. As five o'clock rolled around, Hermione began to pack up her belongings and was just about to leave her office when she heard a knock at her door. She turned with a sigh, thinking that it would be Maddie asking her to stay a bit longer, but was amazed to see Neville standing in front of her. She squealed and ran into his arms as he chuckled, kissing her head.

"What are you doing here?!" She asked happily and he shrugged, pulling away from him.

"I found myself missing a certain someone," he grinned, cupping her jaw and kissing her gently on the lips as she smiled against him, "plus, we have yet to have an actual date, so I wondered if I could take you to dinner?"

"What, now?" She frowned, looking down at her lime green robes and Neville snorted.

"Ok, so when I said take you out to dinner, what I really meant is you coming to Hogwarts so I can cook for you," he shrugged, "is that alright?"

"Yeah," she grinned, interested to see his quarters and excited to see Hogwarts again, "should I go home and change, first? I don't want to sit around in my robes."

"Naked dinner it is!" Neville exclaimed and Hermione gasped, smacking him on the chest as he chuckled, "relax Hermione, we can go to yours first."

After he had visited his parents while he waited to pack her things, Neville held out his hand for her to take and she slid her own hand into it, intertwining their fingers and smiling as she noticed how well they fit together. Walking hand to hand down the hallways of St Mungo's, Hermione felt as though all of her worrying had been been for nought, as being with him like this felt completely natural to her. When they reached the floos, Hermione went through first and stepped out at the other end in her own apartment, only to freeze in place as Neville barged into her from behind, both staring at her flat with wide, shocked eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

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Hermione's usually pristine flat was in a state of such disarray that one could be forgiven for thinking a battle had taken place inside of it. Her furniture, a mixture of antique pieces that had belonged to her parents and more modern pieces she had bought for herself, were either overturned or smashed to pieces while all of her photos, trinkets and her beloved books lay discarded so carelessly around the place. Hermione's hands were trembling as she brought them up to her mouth, her eyes as wide as ever and filled with tears as Neville put his strong hands on her shoulders, his own eyes filled with concern.

"Stay here," he muttered, sighing as he looked around, "I'm going to check the other rooms. Do you think you can send a patronus to Harry?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, reaching into her bag for her wand and holding it limply at her side, sobbing, "Neville…"

"I know, sweetheart," he sighed, hugging her tightly, "I know. Just... Just stay here, ok?"

She nodded mutely as he kissed her forehead and headed off in the direction of the bedroom, before she lifted her wand and held her wand before her. If she hadn't been so confused and dismayed, she might have realised that something wasn't right about her patronus, but as she sent it off to find Harry, she was too distracted by the chaos that she was faced with. She had no idea who would even want to enter her home and completely destroy everything she owned, even less idea as to why. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself and wondered why nothing could ever just be bloody simple for her, when Neville came back into the room and she stepped toward him just in time for Harry to tumble out of the floo.

"I never get any better at-" Harry grumbled, picking himself up and moving to dust himself up, but he froze with his jaw hanging open as he saw the state of the place, "what the… Hermione? What happened?"

"I don't know, we came here straight from Mungo's and…" Hermione shrugged, heaving a great sigh as Neville put his arm around her waist and she gestured at the mess that surrounded her.

"The whole flat is the same," Neville told Harry, who was frowning deeply now as he pulled his wand out and began casting some investigative spells, "the bedroom… Well it's worse."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked urgently as she turned to him and Neville sighed, dragging his free hand through his hair.

When he didn't answer immediately, she pulled away from him and stormed off towards her bedroom, ignoring the shouts of both Harry and Neville from behind her. She pushed open the door without even thinking twice and stopped in her tracks when she saw the state of her bedroom, her safe haven. As it had been in the living room and presumably everywhere else, the furniture and her belongings were haphazardly thrown around the room, lying in varying states of brokenness. What shocked her the most, though, was the fact that someone had written the word 'mudblood' in huge dripping letters across her wall.

"Jesus…" Harry muttered, stepping in behind her, "I'm going to pull in a full team to investigate what's happened, Hermione."

"Thank you," Hermione croaked, sniffling as she looked around the floor, "I don't understand why anyone… what do I do now, Harry?"

"At least for tonight, I suggest you either come to ours or go to Neville's, as this investigating the scene could take all night," he sighed, trying to put on his professional persona but failing as she sniffled and he crossed the room to give her a hug, "I promise, Hermione, I'll figure this out."

"What about my things?" She whispered, pulling away and wiping her eyes as Neville walked into the room, looking concernedly over at her as he came over to them and brushed his hand down the back of her hair.

"Well, for now we need to leave everything where it is, just in case," Harry told them and Hermione nodded, laying her head on Neville's shoulder, "when we've cleared the scene, I'll work with a small team to repair what we can."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione sighed, nodding, "do you need me here? Do I need to make a statement?"

"I'll need statements from both of you, but it can wait," Harry told them and Hermione sighed, turning fully into Neville as she lost control of her emotions and allowed herself to cry, Harry looking up at Neville sadly, "take her back to Hogwarts, send an owl to Maddie to say she won't be at work tomorrow. Do you have any free periods tomorrow?"

"I haven't got any classes until after lunch," Neville informed Harry, who nodded, "there's a meeting during lunch, though, so if you want to pop by I suggest before twelve would be best."

"I'll try and make it by around ten at the latest," Harry smiled, frowning at a sobbing Hermione, "take care of her, yeah?"

"For the rest of my life if she lets me," he said, smiling sadly at Harry before he pushed Hermione gently away and stooped down to her eye level, "you want me to apparate you?"

Hermione just nodded through her tears and Neville sighed, pulling her against him again. She heard Harry sigh too as Neville pulled his wand from his pocket, before the world seemed to spin around them and the temperature, as tepid as it had been in London, became chilly and she shivered as she suddenly found herself in the highlands of Scotland. Neville kept one arm around her as he guided her forward, tapping his wand against the iron gates before pulling her straight through them with him. Hermione sniffled, clutching to him tightly as she looked up, seeing the castle looming over them.

"It's still the most beautiful place," she muttered, Neville rubbing her arm as they walked up the main pathway, "where are we going?"

"Madam Pomfrey first," Neville sighed, rolling his eyes as she shook her head, "you're in shock, Hermione. Just let her check you over, please. For me?"

"Fine." she sighed tiredly, not having the energy to fight with him.

Neville helped her up the stairs into the entrance hall, opening the doors and pulling her in before closing them closed behind him to keep out the chill. From her left, Hermione could hear the loud chatter of the students eating dinner and the smell of food reminded her that she hadn't eaten lunch that day, her stomach grumbling suddenly. She heard Neville chuckle from next to her and he pulled his wand again, flicking it towards the Great Hall and Hermione flinched as a Pumpkin Pasty flew straight towards her. When it didn't hit her in the face as she expected, she looked up to see Neville holding it up for her and smiled weakly as she took it, admittedly impressed by his improved reflexes.

"That should tide you over." He smiled, guiding her up to the hospital wing with his hand on the small of her back as she munched on the wizarding treat.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

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After being thoroughly poked and prodded by Madam Pomfrey, who insisted on giving her a full check up despite Hermione's many protests, Hermione had taken Neville's offered hand and they had strolled through the castle at a leisurely pace. Neville had sent an owl to Maddie, he informed her and although she was hesitant to take even one day off from work, she had agreed it was probably best, all things considered. Hermione was lost in thought, trying to figure out even the smallest reason someone may have taken issue with her, when she looked around and realised that she was somewhere on the grounds that she didn't recognise.

"Where are we?" She asked, frowning and Neville smiled.

"Just past the greenhouses," he told her and Hermione turned, looking behind her and was surprised to see that they had indeed passed the glass structures, feeling Neville pull her in front of him and hold her still as he pointed over her shoulder, "see that cottage?"

"What about it?" Hermione frowned and Neville snorted, nudging her forward.

"That's the Herbology quarters," he grinned as he stepped around her and started walking towards the house, before he turned around and held his hand out to a shocked Hermione, "you coming? It's a lot warmer inside."

Once he had used his wand to unlock the door, he gestured for her to go in first as he held it open. Hermione, upon first seeing the inside of the building, gasped at how rustically beautiful it was. Although there were low ceilings just inside the entrance, with beams that were only just high enough for Neville to walk under, they only reached halfway into the depth of the space. Confused, Hermione walked forward and looked up, her eyes widening as she found herself looking up at a high, vaulted ceiling that had a balcony running along two edges of it.

"This is…" Hermione trailed off, looking down to find Neville smiling softly at her, "Neville, this is

amazing."

"I know," he smiled, nodding as he approached her and put his hands on her hips as Hermione rested hers on his shoulders, "I sort of can't believe you're here."

Hermione smiled softly up at him before pushing herself up on her toes, placing her lips on his and sighing through her nose as his fingers dug into her hips. She smiled against his lips as he took a step forwards and pushed her into a wooden column, before he pulled away suddenly and sighed, smiling down at her.

"If you keep that up, we won't get any dinner," he snorted, kissing her forehead as she chuckled, before walking into his kitchen, "what do you want to eat?"

"Right now? Anything," she laughed, moving to join him and leaning against the counter top, "what were your original plans?"

"I didn't really get that far, to be honest," he grinned sheepishly and Hermione rolled her eyes before pushing away from the counter and beginning to rummage through his cupboards, "what are you looking for?"

"I don't know yet," she mumbled, standing before a floor to ceiling cupboard that was full of vegetables, her hands on her hips, suddenly gasping and turning to face him, "I do make a very good vegetable curry."

"I'm supposed to be cooking for you," Neville groaned, standing behind her, "but that does sound really good. Why don't you teach me how to make it?"

"Alright," Hermione grinned, pulling her robes over her head so that she was left in a pair of leggings and a vest top, throwing the awful lime green fabric onto the counter, "I cook the muggle way, though."

"Fine by me," Neville nodded, pinching her bottom as she passed and laughing when she yelped, "what do we need?"

For the next hour, Hermione and Neville worked together to create what could only be termed a disaster. Neville, as it turned out, was utterly useless with a knife and Hermione didn't think she had ever laughed as hard as she did as she watched him trying to figure out how her conjured peeler worked. Despite what had happened in her own flat, Hermione enjoyed a happy evening with Neville in his home and by the time she handed him a plate of steaming curry, she felt quite at home herself. Neville apparently felt the same, judging by their discussion as they ate.

"You know," he said, hesitantly, "I could definitely get used to having you here. Feels more like home, is that weird?"

"Well, while it's a little too soon to think about moving in together," she replied, relieved when he nodded in agreement, "I must admit that I feel quite at home here. It's such a beautiful house."

"I'm sorry about your flat," Neville said softly, reaching for her hand when she sighed, nodding, "have you managed to think of anyone who could have done it?"

"No-one," she sighed, shrugging, "don't get me wrong, I know that there are people out there who don't like me, I'm not so egotistical that I think I'm universally adored, but I still can't think of anyone who hates me enough to do that."

"It has to be someone who knows you well enough to know your address," he frowned, stabbing a piece of potato savagely with his fork and Hermione shook her head.

"That kind of information is public record, if you know where to look," she shrugged, "so it could be just about anyone, though I feel like this is a personal issue rather than anything else."

"What makes you say that?" Neville frowned and Hermione sighed.

"Gut instinct, I suppose," she muttered, shrugging, "I guess we'll have to wait and see what Harry says tomorrow."

"He said he'd be here by 10," Neville told her and she nodded, standing up and putting her plate in the sink as Neville smirked, "until then, did you know that all staff quarters have a bath like the one in the prefects bathroom?"

Hermione squealed, making Neville wince, before she demanded that he take her there immediately. He laughed, rolling his eyes as he stood up and surprised her by scooping her into his arms before walking across the living area and through a low door. To their left was a set of stairs that obviously led up to the bedroom, but Neville veered right and through another door, which turned out to be the most luxurious bathroom Hermione had ever seen. After he had deposited her at the side of the tub, which would be better described as a pool, Neville filled it with water before stripping naked and stepping in, beckoning for her to do the same, which she did quite willingly.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

At almost 10 o'clock the next morning, Hermione was impatiently pacing around Neville's living room while he sat on the sofa, watching her as he tapped his own foot in anticipation for whatever news Harry would bring. Neither of them had slept well, the events of the evening catching up to them as they lay together, instead talking about seemingly random topics until the early hours. Anything to take their minds off of the worry that someone was obviously targeting her. Just as the clock chimed at the turn of the hour, both of them turned their heads in unison as the floo roared and Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, at least this time managing to remain on his feet.

"Well?" Hermione blurted, rushing toward him, "did you find anything?"

"Oh I'm alright, thanks for asking. Oh, it's nice to see you too," Harry grumbled sarcastically and Hermione glared at him, "sorry, I've been at yours all night. The search took longer than expected."

"But did you find anything, Harry?" Hermione huffed and Harry, after collapsing next to Neville on the sofa, nodded.

"Nothing conclusive or particularly incriminating, mind you," he frowned, shrugging as he looked up at her where she stood, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, "I do need to ask, when was the last time Ron was in your flat?"

"What?" Hermione frowned, knowing that Harry knew full well when it had been, "the same bloody day I threw him out of it! You know this."

"So about… 9 months ago?" Harry asked and Hermione nodded, "ok, well there are signs of him being there more recently."

"Sorry?!" Hermione snapped, her eyes widening, "how recently, exactly?"

"His wand was used to get through your wards last Tuesday."

The room fell silent as Hermione stared at Harry, her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw hanging slightly. Neville, who had been silent and stayed out of the conversation up until this point, stood from the sofa and approached Hermione, who willingly stepped into his arms as he opened them in invitation, before he turned to Harry.

"Can you tell if it was him, or whether someone else used his wand?" He asked, gently stroking Hermione's back and as he said it, she looked up.

"Can't tell, I'm afraid," Harry sighed and Hermione groaned, dropping her forehead back onto Neville's chest, "the next step would be to interview Ron, to see if he has been there or not."

"Is it safe for Hermione to go home?" Neville asked and Hermione pulled back, looking over at Harry hopefully, sighing when he winced.

"Listen, if it were up to me, I'd let you go home with added protections," Harry sighed, bouncing his knee, "but Kingsley doesn't think that you should go back until we figure out who did this."

"So, what you're saying, is that I'm being forced to move in with my boyfriend of less than a week because some psychopath has seen fit to target me?" She asked hurriedly, wincing as she realised what she had said and turned to a smiling Neville, "not that I don't enjoy being here-"

"It's alright, Hermione," Neville chuckled, kissing her forehead, "as your boyfriend-"

"Seriously? That's what you got from what I just said?" Hermione snorted, shaking her head as he emphasized the word.

"Yes, well, if you two are quite finished," Harry chuckled tiredly, "there is more and you're really not going to like it, Hermione."

"Oh god," she groaned, her face and stomach falling, "what else could he possibly… No. No, Harry. That's not happening."

Hermione knew the look on Harry's face, though it was one that she hadn't seen in a blissfully long time. In fact, the last time she had seen it was before they went on the run from the Ministry and into hiding while they hunted for the pieces of Voldemort's soul. If she hadn't known him so well, it would have been completely unnoticeable, but she knew it. Neville, on the other hand, seemed to have no idea what she was taking about as he was frowning deeply as he looked between her and Harry.

"What are you talking about?" He asked and Hermione shook her head, turning away and walking over to the sofa where she collapsed, dropping her face into her hands.

"Kingsley wants Hermione to take a leave of absence from St Mungo's," Harry sighed and Hermione didn't look up, though she heard Neville gasp, "just until we figure this out."

"Harry, stop trying to dress this up as something normal," Hermione sighed, dropping her hands from her face and looking up at Neville, "Kingsley wants me to go into hiding."

"That's not-"

"Yes it bloody is and you know it, Harry," Hermione sighed, shaking her head as Neville sat down next to her, putting his hand on her knee, "he's concerned because of the use of 'mudblood', it makes it seem like I'm being targeted for my blood status and he's worried that this could be linked to a rogue death eater. Don't lie to me Harry, I'm not stupid."

"There are still rogue death eaters?" Neville gasped and Hermione nodded as Harry spoke.

"A few," he sighed, sitting down in the armchair opposite them, "and yes, Hermione, that is what he's thinking. He's right, you know. I know you don't like it, but if it keeps me safe-"

"I hate this," she whispered, shaking her head before looking up at Harry, "so I'm to move in here, if only until you've caught whoever did this?"

"Pretty much," Harry nodded, smiling sadly, "Hogwarts is the safest place in magical Britain, so you're pretty much guaranteed safety as long as you're here."

"So I can go up to the castle?" Hermione asked, feeling a little better when Harry nodded.

"And the grounds, too," he told her, "as long as you have someone with you while you're out in the open, just in case."

"Ok, I guess that's not so bad," Hermione sighed, nodding, "fine, but I want to know what's going on. Oh, and I'll need to go and get my stuff. I can't borrow Neville's clothes forever."

"That's fine, we can go today when Neville goes to his meeting?" He suggested and Hermione nodded.

For the rest of the morning, Hermione stayed mostly silent as she listened to Harry and Neville discuss the specifics of her 'protective relocation', as Harry so eloquently described it. Outwardly, she remained calm, but on the inside she was furious at whoever had entered her home and caused such a massive change to suddenly happen in her life. She had thought that entering into a relationship with Neville was a big enough change, but this was just ridiculous. On the plus side, she would be at Hogwarts and with Neville, but what the hell was she supposed to do with her time? One thing was for sure, she would have to find something, because sitting around doing nothing would drive her crazy far sooner than Harry could solve this mystery.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

Knowing that Neville would be in lessons all afternoon, Hermione declined his offer to see her back to his quarters in favour of some much needed solitude. As she stepped out of the floo, her trusty beaded bag full of her lifetime worth of sentimentally significant belongings, Hermione sighed as she took in the wonderful silence. With the mid afternoon sun streaming in through the South facing windows, the cottage was absolutely lovely and Hermione smiled, heading over to Neville's bookcase and dropping her bag down next to her. Reaching in, she pulled out a shrunken box and put it on a side table before pointing her wand at it, restoring its normal size, before she began to pull out a few books at a time, placing them on the shelves along with Neville's own books.

She continued in this way, taking out the items that were she felt were most important to have accessible while she would be here and putting them around Neville's home, until she had all that she would need for the time being. After looking at the clock and finding it to be four o'clock, Hermione picked up her beaded bag and took it upstairs to the bedroom, dropping it down on the bed before she reached in and pulled out her old school trunk, repaired by Harry and since filled with all of her clothes, before putting it down on the floor and enlarging it. Picking out a comfortable pair of black shorts and a red vest, she headed for the shower. She was just enjoying the feeling of the hot water running over her when the door to the cubicle was suddenly open and she screamed, spinning around so suddenly that she lost her footing and slipped, only to be caught by a very amused Neville.

"Well," he chuckled, helping her back to her feet and looking down at his now wet teaching robes, "that's a welcome I could get used to."

"You bloody idiot!" Hermione snapped, slapping him on the arm, but she couldn't help but smile, "how were classes?"

"Same as usual," he shrugged, leaning in the open door of the shower and watching her, his eyes trailing over her body, "I see you've moved your stuff in."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, looking worriedly at him, "I hope you don't mind, I just wanted some of my-"

"Stop," he grinned, taking the washcloth from her and gesturing for her to turn around before using it to wash her back, "you know I don't mind, sweetheart."

"I like it when you call me that," Hermione smiled, looking at him over her shoulder and he winked, making her blush before she remembered his meeting, "oh, what was your meeting about?"

"You'll find out in the morning," Neville smiled, holding the washcloth out to her and kissing her shoulder, "Minerva wants to see you in her office after breakfast?"

"Why do I feel like I'm about to get house points deducted?" Hermione frowned, making Neville chuckle as he shrugged.

"I still feel like that whenever she asks me up there," he laughed, "I've got marking that needs doing, so I'll let you finish up?"

She nodded, smiling as he shut the cubicle door and turned back into the bedroom, where she could see him remove his teaching robes through the frosted glass of the shower. He cast a drying spell on them before sending them into the wardrobe with his wand, before changing into a less formal checked shirt. Hermione smiled to herself as he disappeared off and presumably downstairs, amazed by how comfortable and… Normal this seemed. Just something so simple as being at home when he finished work, it was such a small thing but it was something that left a warm feeling inside of her.

"Do you want me to do some marking for you?" She asked a little later as she sat down next to him on the sofa and he turned to her, his eyebrow raised.

"You really don't have to," he shrugged, gesturing to the pile on the coffee table, "it's just the second years, so it's not too taxing."

"Well, it'll get done quicker if we both do it, right?" She smiled, leaning forward and pulling the pile towards her, "besides, I have to do something. You know I'll go insane if I have nothing to do."

Neville nodded, chuckling as he leaned over and gave her a brief rundown of what she needed to look out for and kissed her on the lips before sitting up and returning to his own marking. Hermione, ever the quick learner, set about marking the pile of second year essays about Mandrakes, remembering her own from many years ago. Between each essay, she turned to look at Neville and usually found him looking at her, too. She couldn't help but allow herself to soak up the cosy, relaxed atmosphere that fell over them, until she became uncomfortable and turned on the sofa, tucking her toes under his leg to steal some warmth and Neville snorted, turning to her.

"You can be very distracting, you know?" He smirked and she shrugged, grinning up at him as she looked up from the penultimate essay, seeing his eyebrows shoot up, "bloody hell, I should get you to help me mark more often!"

"Gladly," he smiled, turning to the last essay, "your second years seem to have a better grasp of Mandrakes than we ever did."

"Better textbooks, more time with the plant-"

"Handsome professor," Hermione snorted, restacking the pile and leaning over to put it on the coffee table next to his own completed pile, "I bet the girls just love Herbology, now that you're teaching."

"You think I'm handsome, huh?" Neville grinned and Hermione, rolling her eyes, moved one leg over his lap so that she was straddling him and smiled down at him.

"Of course I do," she grinned, feeling his hands move to her hips, "as your girlfriend, it's my right."

"Girlfriend," Neville grinned, dropping his head into the back of the couch, "I can't tell you how amazing it is to call you that."

"You could show me?" She smirked, wiggling her hips and Neville groaned, closing his eyes.

"Believe me, I'd love to," he sighed, lifting his head and smiling apologetically up at her, "unfortunately, I need to be at dinner in ten minutes and that is nowhere near enough time to entertain that idea."

"Do you think Minerva would mind a guest at dinner?" Hermione asked excitedly and he snorted, shaking his head.

"She actually asked me to invite you along." He grinned and Hermione heard him laughing as she leapt from his lap and bounded off to find something more appropriate to wear.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

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The Great Hall was quite a bittersweet place for Hermione to be since the battle, as she remembered the covered bodies of those who had perished that day. Those memories didn't stop her from being overwhelmed by other happier ones, though, as she and Neville walked through the huge doors hand in hand, causing a ripple of murmuring to pass through the students at the sudden appearance of Hermione Granger herself. She groaned quietly, frowning at Neville when he chuckled, but forced a confident smile onto her face as he pulled her through the middle of the house tables and up to the staff one. Minerva, looking almost regal as she usually did, stood to greet them both, immediately pulling Hermione into a motherly hug.

"Hermione, dear," she sighed, smiling sadly as she pulled away and held Hermione at arms length as if to inspect her, "I'm sorry for the trouble you're having, but I must say, it's so good to see you."

"You too, Minerva," Hermione smiled, touched by how happy her old mentor seemed to see her again, "I'm sorry that I haven't visited, I have no excuse to be honest."

"Nonsense," Minerva chuckled, waving her hand dismissively as they sat down, Hermione between her and Neville, "I know how busy life can get, my dear. Now tell me, how is our Professor Longbottom treating you?"

Hermione snorted, putting her hand on Neville's leg and patting it patronisingly when he groaned. Between the three of them, dinner passed with constant happy conversation and Hermione felt a sense of peace wash over her, which was rather ironic given her reason for being there in the first place. The students stared at first, but they soon lost interest and returned to their meals and their own conversations. As desert was served, Hermione just so happened to look toward the main doors into the hall as a massive looming figure entered and she grinned as he spotted her sitting next to Neville, hurrying forward.

"'Ermione!" Hagrid boomed, rounding the table and pulling her from her chair for a bone crushing hug that left her breathless, "what're ya doin' 'ere? I mean, it's good to see ya, but I wasn' expectin'-"

"It's fine, Hagrid," Hermione chuckled, gesturing to the empty seat next to Neville, enlarged to fit Hagrid's large frame, "I've had to move in with Neville for a while, so I'll be around the castle for… Well, we don't know how long, but probably for some time."

"Ah yeah," Hagrid snickered, his beard twitching, "Neville 'ere has been talkin' about ya non stop, he has! Seems to be well smitten with ya."

"Yes well," Hermione laughed, patting Neville's shoulder as he covered his face and groaned, sinking lower into his chair in embarrassment, "I find myself quite smitten, also."

"Glad to hear it," Hagrid chuckled as Neville peered through his fingers at Hermione, glaring over her shoulder at a giggling Minerva, "how comes ya stayin' 'ere, then?"

"Have you got time tomorrow for a cuppa?" Hermione asked and Neville nodded, "well, I'll come by your house tomorrow and tell you all about it."

Hagrid happily agreed, before hungrily digging into his dinner while Hermione looked out over the students. She was surprised by just how small they looked, the younger years appearing almost swamped by their school robes, but was amazed to see that a few students at each of the tables belonged to different houses. Even the Slytherins had apparently welcomed people from all three other houses into their folds. Hermione, both impressed and confused, turned to Minerva to ask about it. Minerva smiled as she gazed out over the students before replying.

"Things have changed some since you left," she said happily, "the rules at meals have been relaxed so that students can sit with friends from different houses, which has really helped with interhouse unity."

"I can see that," Hermione remarked, smiling, "it's so nice to see that the Slytherins are more open, too."

"Not only more open," Neville said, draping his arm around the back of her chair and pointing to one of the students, a young blonde girl with a green tie, "Lisa Monroe, third year. One of my best students and best of all, muggleborn."

"Really?" Hermione gasped, smiling as the girl appeared to feel eyes on her and turned to look at them, "that's amazing! I don't think there was ever a muggleborn in Slytherin while we were here."

"There wasn't," Minerva sighed, shaking her head, "the sorting hat was reluctant at first, but I managed to… Persuade it."

"Threatened to set it on fire, she did," came Hagrid's loud voice and Hermione, turning to Minerva with wide eyes, burst into laughter when the headmistress nodded sheepishly.

"It worked, at any rate," she pointed out and Hermione, still laughing, nodded, "I don't think there has ever been a time, at least not in my memory, that there has been less instances of bullying between the houses."

"I really am impressed," Hermione grinned, watching as the main course dishes vanished and the desserts appeared in their place, "I am also really full."

Deciding not to partake in dessert lest she explode, Hermione sat back and watched the students talking and laughing together while Neville was dragged into a debate with Minerva. What the debate was about, Hermione would never know, but she was happy to just be back in Hogwarts after so long. In a moment of reminiscence, she almost wished that she could have experienced her time at the school during these years when everyone seemed so relaxed, but if that had been the case then she wouldn't have known Harry, Ron, Neville or anyone else that she had met during her time at the castle, so it had ultimately been worth it.

Once Neville had finished his dessert, for which he had eaten two massive slices of chocolate cake, he and Hermione left the castle and took a slow stroll down to his cottage. They talked quietly of their memories during the walk and laughed about all of the good times they had spent on the grounds. Hermione, looking around at the beautiful Scottish land, wondered whether perhaps the time had come for a new adventure and, realising that perhaps recent occurrences were some kind of sign that it was time to move on, she decided to see if she could turn the sudden upheaval to her life into a positive and more permanent change.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

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When Hermione left Neville's quarters the next morning to go and see Minerva, she instantly regretted prioritising sleep over breakfast, her stomach aching with hunger as she closed the gate to the cottage. She checked her watch and decided that if she hurried, she would be able to make a quick stop in the kitchens before heading to Minerva's office, as long as she threw her plans for a slow stroll out of the window. She sighed, remembering all the rushing around she had done on the grounds as a student, before she wrapped her arms around herself and hurried past the greenhouses. Just as she walked through up the hill that led to the main entrance of the castle, she saw Neville walking towards her with a pile of toast in his hands, holding them out to her as he stopped in front of her.

"You're a saint and I love you," she groaned, snatching a buttery slice of toast from him as he laughed, "how did you know?"

"I think you forget how long I've known you sometimes," he chuckled, rolling his eyes at her, "that and you're a nightmare if you skip breakfast."

"Gee, thanks," she snorted, scoffing another slice of toast, "thank you, though."

"I'll see you at lunch?" He grinned and she nodded.

After giving her a quick kiss, having waited until she had finished her toast, Neville waved her off and she sighed happily as she watched him head off to the greenhouses before turning and heading for the castle in the opposite direction. Even at this insanely early stage of their relationship, Hermione knew that if they both wanted to, they could easily make a life together and it thrilled her to think about it. She felt so lucky to have be loved by someone so genuine and considerate, especially considering how long he had hidden his feelings. She hoped that when he finished his lessons for the day at lunchtime, she would be able to tell him that she hoped to stay, provided Minerva had any reason to keep her here. She smiled at any students she passed, eventually coming to a stop at the gargoyle, which moved aside without a password. Hermione frowned as she stepped onto the stairs, knocking on the door when she reached the top.

"Come in," came Minerva's voice through the door and Hermione pushed it open, finding not only Minerva but also Poppy Pomfrey inside, "ah, Hermione. Take a seat, dear. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh, yes please," Hermione smiled, greeting Poppy as she sat down, "how are you, Madam Pom-"

"Only the students call me Madam," the matron snorted, rolling her eyes, "call me Poppy."

"Of course," Hermione grinned, gratefully accepting the tea that Minerva offered, "how are you?"

"Quite well, other than old and tired," Poppy smiled, chuckling when Hermione frowned, "my dear girl, I am approaching a hundred years old. Believe me, I am tired."

"I had no idea!" Hermione gasped, wide eyed, "you look very well for it, if it's any consolation."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Poppy grinned, patting Hermione on the knee, "Minerva?"

Hermione's frown remained as she turned to the headmistress, confused and intrigued by the matron's attendance at what Hermione had thought to be a casual chat. Minerva was smiling, her eyes flitting between the two qualified healers, as she leaned her elbows on the desk in front of her and steepled her fingers beneath her chin. Hermione, for a brief moment, wondered if it was a mannerism that was passed down through heads of the school, having seen Dumbledore do the same thing many times. She didn't have time to dwell on the random thought, though, as Minerva spoke.

"I've been wondering what your plans are, once you are free to leave Hogwarts again?" Minerva asked and Hermione smiled.

"I've actually been thinking about just that," she nodded, leaning forward herself, "I feel so much more at home and relaxed up here than I do down in London."

"That's marvellous," Minerva nodded, her smile growing, "Poppy, as she has told you, is reaching an age where she will be unable to continue working as our matron and is looking to retire."

Hermione's eyes widened as she began to piece together what was going on, turning to Poppy who was merely smiling softly down at her own cup of tea, which rested on her lap. In all honesty, she had come to feel like the elderly healer would be in the castle forever, almost as though she was a part of it. For decades, students had been going to her for anything from bumps and scrapes to more severe problems such as petrification or, in Harry's case, the lack of arm bones. If Hermiones suspicions were correct, were Poppy's shoes ones that she would be able to fill?

"I'm hoping that, if you wish to, you would join me in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the year," Poppy said quietly, sounding uncertain, "and if you wish to remain here at Hogwarts on a more permanent basis, then the plan would be for me to retire after the year ends, ready for you to take over for next year."

"Wow," Hermione gasped, stunned at the sudden turn of events, "are you sure that I'm qualified?"

"Of course you are," Minerva said sternly, frowning at Hermione, "I can think of no-one better suited to this role. When Neville mentioned-"

"That sneaky bastard," Hermione sighed, unable to contain the smile that spread across her lips as Minerva rose her eyebrows at her used of language, "sorry. Please, go on."

"Right, well," Minerva said, clearing her throat, "is this something that you would be interested in pursuing?"

"Absolutely!" Hermione exclaimed, blushing as Poppy snorted, "I mean, of course. Could I take the day to discuss this with Neville, though? I feel like we should make this decision together."

"A wise choice," Minerva smiled, nodding, "come and see me tomorrow, once you've had a chance to talk to the… what did you call him? Oh yes, the sneaky bastard."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth as she burst out laughing, definitely not having been expecting that, "I'm sorry, but hearing that language from you is so… Unexpected!"

"Oh my dear," Poppy sighed, rolling her eyes, "Minerva had quite the potty mouth when she was young. You would be stunned by the words I've heard come from her mouth."

Hermione laughed, gesturing for Poppy to tell her some stories about Minerva as a student as the headmistress sighed in the background, pulling out some paperwork that needed her attention. Hermione had never had a chance to properly talk to the elderly healer and was surprised to find that, instead of the no-nonsense, stern witch that she had seemed to be back when Hermione was a student, Poppy was actually very funny and incredibly talkative. Not for the first time, Hermione marvelled at how perceptions of other people could change as one got older.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

When lunchtime finally began, Hermione had hidden herself away around the side of the greenhouses, waiting for the last of Neville's fifth years to exit. Having learned that, at least in part, he had brought about the offer that Minerva and Poppy had made to her this morning, she was anxious to see him and thank him properly for what he had done. When she had decided that she might want to stay at Hogwarts, she hadn't expected such a wonderful opportunity to just be handed to her and she was beyond excited to begin a new adventure. She smiled as the last of the students, two Slytherin girls, filed out of the glass structure, waiting until they had turned the corner before sneaking in and quietly closing the door behind her, sealing it shut with her wand and wincing when it clicked.

"Mr Sau-" Neville began, sighing as he turned around, but he stopped short when he saw Hermione approaching him, looking at her with a frown, "what's up? Is everything ok?"

"I think so," she nodded, sliding her hands up his chest and resting them on his shoulders, "you know how I said that it's a little too soon to be thinking of moving in together..."

"Yeah," he sighed, frowning, "you asked Minerva for some private quarters, right?"

"What? No!" Hermione snorted, shaking her head, "why would you think that?"

"I know how you value your privacy and, I mean we have kind of been forced into this, so I'd understand if-"

"If I wanted to make this permanent?" She said loudly and Neville's mouth stopped mid speech, his eyes widening as he looked down at her, "like, if I said I wanted to live here, with you, would you-"

She grunted as he grabbed her head, kissing her forcefully and turning them around before lifting her onto the work bench. Gardening tools were sent flying as he, very thoroughly, showed Hermione exactly how he would feel about her making this a more permanent situation. She was just reaching under his teaching robes, hoping to perhaps fulfil a fantasy that had been growing in her mind, when Neville yelped and jumped back.

"What?!" She gasped, watching him spin around on the spot as he hissed in pain, "what happened?!"

"Fucking Tentacular!" Neville growled, looking down at his own leg and Hermione gasped as she saw his trousers were ripped and she could see blood, "shit, that stings."

"I'm not surprised!" Hermione said, shaking her head as she began to chuckle, pulling her wand out and summoning a chair to them, "here, sit down, let me take a look."

Hermione kneeled down in front of Neville and lifted his leg onto her lap, severing the leg of his trousers so that she could get a better look. Thankfully, the fangs had not sunk in too deeply and she didn't think that too much, if any, venom had managed to get into his system, so she merely used her wand to extract any that might be there. Once she was certain that there would be none remaining, she sealed the two puncture marks before conjuring some bandages, carefully wrapping his leg before sitting back and looking up at him, finding him smiling gently down at her.

"You'll be fine," she told him, chuckling, "bloody plant couldn't have worse timing if it tried, though."

"Tell me about it," he snorted, standing from the chair and offering her a hand up, cupping her face gently in his hands when she was in front of him, "are you serious? About moving here?"

"I am," she smiled, "Minerva and Poppy just so happened to offer me the Matron's position. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"I might have mentioned… Well, I mean…" Neville stuttered and Hermione snorted, pushing up on her toes and silencing him with a gentle kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips before pulling away, "I was going to ask about a job here anyway, you just saved me the trouble."

"You were?" Neville frowned, gesturing to the door and Hermione flicked her wand, causing it to unlock with a click, before taking his hand and walking with him out into the grounds.

"Yeah," she shrugged, smiling up at him, "I know what I said about it being too soon, but this doesn't feel like a relationship that just started, you know? We've known each other for so long."

"I know what you mean." He said, nodding in agreement and Hermione sighed, squeezing his hand.

"I don't know why, but being like this with you, it feels… I don't know, it feels so natural and easy, like it's always been like this. Does that make any sense?" She asked with a frown and Neville snorted, nodding, "the cottage feels more homely to me in two days than my flat did in five years, plus just the simplest things are just wonderful with you, like last night when we were sat marking, you know?"

"You felt that too, huh?" He asked, smiling when she nodded, "maybe it's because I've had feelings toward you for so long, I don't know, but to me it just feels like this could be it, which hopefully doesn't sound too mental."

"Not at all!" Hermione exclaimed, stopping him and turning to face him, "I mean, to anyone else we would probably sound completely crazy, but to me it makes perfect sense. I had the same thought this morning, while I was on my way to Minerva's office!"

"You did?" Neville grinned and she nodded, laughing.

"Are we crazy? To be so certain of a future?" She asked, her laugh fading into a frown and she sighed, "I mean, I've been certain before and look where that got me."

"It got you here, to me," Neville said seriously, moving closer to her and slipping his arms around her waist, "I know what you're thinking and you need to stop. I'm not him. I'm not going to forget what I have, sweetheart."

"You might," she shrugged, sighing deeply, "I might not be eno-"

"Stop," Neville growled, his eyes narrowed, "I have been completely in love with you for almost a decade. I would die, Hermione, before I hurt you or let anyone else hurt you."

"I'm sorry," she sighed, shaking her head and tilting her head back to look at the sky, "I'm still scared, you know? We've fallen so easily into this that it feels too good to be true, doesn't it?"

"You and I both know that it won't always be easy," he sighed, pulling her head down to look him in the eye, "but as long as we both work at it and we want to be together, we will be. You're not getting rid of me, alright? I love you."

"I love you too," she sighed, smiling, "thank you, for being so... You."

"You're welcome?" Neville said uncertainly with a frown on his face and Hermione chuckled, dragging him by the hand up to the castle for some food.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

When Hermione had first chosen to gain her Healer qualification, she had done so in the hopes that she would be helping people to recover from whatever ailed them before watching as they returned to normal life. She had done this, to start with, when she had worked in the emergency ward at St Mungo's and it had given her a feeling of satisfaction that she had felt nowhere else, or for any other reason. Then Ron had left the Aurors and gone to work in Weasleys Wizard Wheezes with his brother and, as a couple, they suddenly had to worry about money. Hermione would never begrudge him doing something that made him happy, it just wasn't in his nature, but she knew that if she didn't start making more money, then they would struggle to pay their rent and bills. It had been at this point that the Hospital bosses had approached her about the assistant head role on Janus Thicky and, although she knew that there was very little chance of actually helping anyone on that ward, the role would mean that she would earn almost double what she did in the emergency ward.

That had been over four years ago and Hermione had learned to enjoy working with the patients on the long term ward, but she still remembered how it felt to actually heal someone of their affliction. This was the main reason she had accepted Poppy's offer so readily and as she walked into the Hospital Wing and saw a handful of students laying in beds while Poppy herself sat at her desk filling out their paperwork, she felt excited at the prospect of returning to the type of healing she loved most.

"Ah, Hermione dear!" Poppy smiled as she looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, "how are you feeling?"

"Excited," Hermione grinned, gesturing around them, "I might be a bit rusty, though. Janus Thicky is a very different kind of healing."

"Nonsense," Poppy scoffed, waving her hand dismissively as she stood and approached, "it's like riding a broomstick, you never forget."

"I've never been very good on a broomstick, Poppy," Hermione chuckled, shaking her head, "where do you want me?"

"They're all asleep at the moment, so why don't you take a moment to familiarise yourself with the Wing and where everything is?" Poppy suggested.

Hermione nodded eagerly and, while Poppy returned to her paperwork, walked towards the end of the Wing that she knew to house the store room and records. As a student, this area had always been out of bounds to her and even now, at the age of 25, she half expected Poppy to come bustling up the long room to chastise her for being there. As she walked, she glanced out of the windows and smiled when she caught a glimpse of the greenhouses, wondering what Neville was doing down there right at that moment, before she stopped in front of a locked door. Pulling her wand, she cast a spell to unlock it and pushed it open, gasping as she entered.

The store room, as it turned out, was absolutely massive, far bigger than it would seem from outside and could almost compete with the main wing in size. There were thousands of potions neatly lined up on the shelves, in all varieties from Pepper-Up to Draught of Living Death, leaving Hermione in awe of all that the school was prepared for. Even St Mungo's stores of potions were not as well equipped as the school seemed to be, but then again, the Hospital did have a full staff of brewers to replenish whatever they needed at any time. Hermione definitely couldn't imagine Snape staying up all night to brew Pepper-Up Potions during flu season. The thought made her chuckle as she wandered the shelves and tried to memorise the placement of each type.

Once she thought that she had at least a working memory of the most useful potions, Hermione walked back out of the room and, after remembering to lock it again, she stepped over to the records room, which was not locked. Pushing the door open, she frowned as she was confronted with what appeared to be a broom closet with a single filing cabinet inside. Looking around, she discovered that the filing cabinet was literally the only thing in the room and, deciding that she needed an explanation about this particular room, she left the room and closed the door before heading back towards Poppy, who looked up with a smirk as she approached.

"Magic, my dear, is extremely useful," Poppy said, chuckling at Hermione's confused expression, "you want to ask me how the records room works, am I correct?"

"Yes," Hermione said, raising her eyebrow, "how did you know?"

"Because that was the first question that I asked when I began to work at Hogwarts," Poppy smiled, standing and gesturing for Hermione to follow her as she headed back towards the tiny room, "as I was told, there is a specific spell that is passed from one matron to the next, allowing records to remain private without added security."

"That's actually very clever," Hermione nodded, impressed, "what is the spell?"

"It is a variation of the summoning charm," Poppy said, opening the door to the room and stepping inside before motioning for Hermione to enter too, "here, place the tip of your wand against this mark here."

Hermione squinted, leaning close to the spot that Poppy was pointing to and gasped as she saw a small cross etched into the metal of the cabinet. She pulled back, nodding as she pulled her wand from her back pocket before pressing the tip of it to the scratched symbol. Turning to Poppy, who was smiling, she waited for the elderly witch to talk.

"Good. Now, you can either think of a specific person, a past of present student perhaps," Poppy said and Hermione nodded, "or you can think of a symptom or a specific incident that has occured and the cabinet will provide all files that include it."

"Ok, that seems straight forward," Hermione nodded, closing her eyes and thinking of herself, snapping them open again when the filing cabinet made a clicking noise, "does that mean it worked?"

"Indeed," Poppy nodded, smiling as Hermione put her wand back in her pocket before she opened the drawer and pulled out the file, starting to laugh as she opened it, "my dear, I had quite forgotten about your Polyjuice incident..."

"Oh gods," Hermione groaned, blushing, "not one of my finer moments, obviously."

"I must say, it certainly made a change from petrified students," Madam Pomfrey sighed, smiling sadly as she closed the file and handed it back to Hermione, "to store the file, you simply put it back into the drawer. It's all quite simple really."

The rest of the morning passed by quickly, with a couple of students coming and going with Potions accidents that were easily fixed. Poppy seemed happy to take a step back and allow Hermione to work without supervision, unless Hermione asked her to help. Hermione enjoyed being able to see an immediate difference in the potions students, first years who had obviously made an error when brewing their Cure for Boils, which left her trying to hide her grin as she remembered the exact same thing happening to Neville in their first year. As lunchtime approached, Hermione was just clearing up after the last boil afflicted child when an alarm sounded, making her jump.

"What's that?" She shouted over to Poppy, approaching the desk to find her mentor bent over a map of the grounds.

"That alarm means there has been an accident that needs our attention," Poppy said loudly, flicking her wand to silence the noise before sighing in relief, pointing at a cupboard near the door, "grab a kit, we're needed at the quidditch pitch."


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

 **xxxxxxxxxxx**

Quidditch had always been one of those things about the wizarding world that Hermione had thought to be dangerous and largely pointless, as it seemed to result in more accidents and injuries than anything else. As she and Poppy ran onto the pitch, where they could see the Slytherin team crowded around what was obviously their injured team-mate, her thoughts on the sport were seemingly confirmed. Pushing the worried students aside, she found a small boy, no older than thirteen or fourteen, laying unconscious on the ground with a large gash in his forehead and blood pooled around him. Dropping to her knees, she set to work repairing the gash, before carefully checking him for other injuries, while Poppy questions one of the less panicked Slytherins, an older girl.

"I told him not to fly too high," the girl sighed as Hermione gently opened the boys mouth, wincing when she found him to have several teeth missing, "he was nervous, you know after his last injury, but he was determined to prove me wrong."

"One of the bludgers went flying off towards him," said another voice, this one male, "I shouted, but because he was so high, he didn't hear me. By the time he saw the bludger, he had no choice but to try and outfly it."

"Then he went headfirst into one of the goal posts," sniffled another younger boy, "must have knocked himself out, hasn't moved since."

"Ok, well you did very well to sound the alarm," Poppy said gently as Hermione looked up, nodding to indicate that it was safe to move him, "we will take young Mr Appleby to the Hospital Wing now."

"Can we come and see him?" Asked the other younger boy and Poppy gestured for Hermione to answer.

"Soon," Hermione nodded, smiling as she put a hand on the young boys shoulder, "I'll send word when he is either awake or stable, so that you can visit."

"Thanks um… Wait, aren't you Hermione Granger?" The boy frowned and Hermione snorted, nodding.

"Madam Granger will be helping me in the Hospital Wing this year, before taking over from me next year after I retire," Poppy said proudly and the Slytherins gasped, "I am old and tired, it's time for a new school matron. Now, let us take Mr Appleby from you and as Madam Granger has said, we will send word when you can all visit."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Madam Granger, huh?" Neville grinned later that night as Hermione told him about her day, the two of them curled up on the sofa at the cottage, "how does that feel? It took ages for me to get used to being called professor."

"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it," Hermione snorted, shaking her head, "how was you day?"

"Same as usual," Neville shrugged, chuckling as he ran his fingers up and down her arm, "you wouldn't believe all of the gossip I heard about the new school nurse."

"Oh gods, really?" Hermione groaned, burying her face in his shoulder as he laughed, "what are they saying about me already?"

"Oh, apparently she is very pretty," Neville said, kissing her head, "a lot of the older students think that she has some very nice... 'Assets'."

"No!" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening as she burst out laughing, "do I want to know what assets they're appraising?"

"Nope," grinned Neville, popping the p, but he groaned as she raised her eyebrow in question, "fine, one of the seventh year Ravenclaws told me that you have a lovely arse."

"Neville!" Hermione shrieked, shocked at the forwardness of the students, "please tell me you told him off!"

"I told him that yes, you have a very lovely arse and as your boyfriend and his professor I could very easily give him detention for a month if I caught him looking at it," Neville said, smirking and Hermione snorted, covering her face as he laughed, "I'm joking, sweetheart. But I did give him detention for looking."

"You're awful," Hermione sighed, the words muffled by her hands, "and remind me to wear less form fitting clothing from now on."

"Only until you get home," Neville smiled, pulling her hands from her face and pushing her down on the sofa until he had her pinned underneath him, "because I definitely want to see that bum of yours as often as possible, thanks."

Hermione snorted, nodding as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down until his lips were on hers. Her body filled with heat as his lips moved against hers and his hands slipped underneath her shirt, gently exploring her body. She gasped as she felt his hand cup her breast and arched her back, before she suddenly realised something and her eyes flew open, pulling her face away from him as he frowned, his hand staying where it was as he looked questioningly down at her.

"You said home," she said, running her hands over his shoulders, "you said 'until you get home'."

"Well, yeah," Neville nodded, smiling softly down at her, "if you want it to be, this is as much your home as it is mine."

"I want it," she nodded, laughing at her own weird reaction to his words, "I very much want it."

A couple of hours later, Hermione was enjoying a hot bath to soothe her aching joints while Neville did his marking in bed. She was amazed by how well everything seemed to be going since her flat had been broken into and, in a weird way, she was beginning to think of it as a blessing in disguise. Without that happening, she wouldn't have needed to stay at Hogwarts with Neville, so she wouldn't have ended up taking the offer to take over the Hospital Wing the next year. Everything seemed to be going so well and, as grateful as she was, a part of her was also waiting for something to go wrong. That something came when she stepped out of the bath, hearing the floo roar to life in the living room. Assuming that Neville hadn't heard it, with the bedroom being upstairs and the bathroom being downstairs near the living room, she wrapped a towel around herself and went to investigate, gasping when she saw Harry on his knees. Rushing forward, she only became more concerned when she discovered his face to be contorted with anger, his clothes covered in soot and when he looked up at her, she saw that he looked exhausted as he whispered four little words that left her feeling both confused and utterly sick to her stomach.

"Your flat is gone."


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

 **xxxxxxxxxx**

"Excuse me?!" Hermione shrieked, jumping back and looking at him with wide eyes, "what do you bloody hell do you mean my flat is gone? It's a flat! It doesn't just up and go!"

Her screaming must have alerted Neville of Harry's arrival, because before Harry had a chance to reply they both turned their heads in the direction of the stairs, where the thuds of hurrying footsteps could be heard descending. Hermione was shaking by the time Neville burst through the door and, after frowning at Harry, he rushed to her side and guided her to sit down. Harry, watching them, did not make a move and merely dragged his hand through his hair, sighing deeply.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, rubbing Hermione's leg, "what's happened?"

"I'm so sorry," Harry gasped, stepping forward before falling to his knees in front of her, "there was a fire and-"

"What?" Hermione whimpered, covering her mouth with both hands.

"Hermione, your entire flat was absolutely destroyed," Harry sighed and Hermione, her mind full of everything that she had just lost, sobbed and Neville immediately pulled her toward him, "we tried to save something, anything, but it's all gone."

"Ev- everyth- thing?" Hermione stammered, crying out and burying her face in Neville's shoulder when he nodded.

"How did this happen?" Neville asked, obviously trying to hide his anger, "and why? If Hermione had been there…"

"She'd be dead," Harry confirmed, gulping audibly as Neville held Hermione protectively, her whole body was trembling, "we don't know how, but we're now treating this as a serious threat to Hermione's life."

"No shit," Neville muttered, hissing as Hermione's nails dug into his chest, "Harry, I know you don't want to hear this, but you have to question Ron about this."

"Ron wouldn't-"

"Ron wouldn't what, Harry?!" Hermione shouted, roughly pushing away from Neville and standing from the sofa, glaring at Harry as she began to pace the floor in front of the fire, "we thought Ron wouldn't cheat on me, but guess what? He did. We thought he wouldn't be so fucking spiteful as to humiliate me in front of hundreds of fucking people, but he bloody well did! So what, Harry, what the hell would Ron not do?"

"Herm-"

"I swear if the next words out of your mouth are in his defence, you can get the hell out of this house," Hermione hissed, pointing to the floo, "because clearly, the man has something against me and suddenly, my life is in danger and he should damn well be a bloody suspect!"

"Look, I know you and Ron don't see eye to eye any more-"

"Oh just stop, Harry," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, "seriously, when are you going to admit that you might not know him as well as you think you do?"

"He's been my best friend since we were eleven, Hermione," Harry exclaimed, standing himself and turning to face her as Neville kept a watchful eye on them both, "I think I know him well enough to know he wouldn't burn your fucking flat down!"

"Did you know that he was shagging someone behind my back?" She asked, snorting when he sighed, shaking his head, "did you know of this pathetic plans at the wedding?"

"Of course I didn't! Do you think I would have let him do that to you if I'd known?" Harry asked, his voice full of hurt, but Hermione ignored the pang of guilt that hit her at the sound.

"Then how can you be so sure he wouldn't do this?" She asked, raising her eyebrow, "or that he doesn't know something about it?"

"There's no evidence-"

"He was at her flat the week before it was ransacked!" Neville cried, obviously having heard enough as he jumped up to stand beside her, "at a time long after he was welcome. That's suspicious, Harry, whether you want to see it or not."

"Of course it's suspicious," Harry sighed, turning to Neville, "but it's not directly linked to the break-in or the fire!"

Whether it was directly linked or not, Hermione was a hundred percent positive that Ron had been at her flat with zero good intentions. Even if it turned out, as unlikely as it was, not to be connected, she wanted it investigated and she wanted to know why he would randomly show up.

"You're never going to be able to investigate this case without bias, are you?" Hermione sighed and Harry frowned, obviously not understanding.

"You're always going to protect Ron, is what she means," Neville told him and Harry opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again in silence, "in that case, I'm going to Kingsley on Monday to ask for a new lead investigator."

"What? No! You can't-"

"We can, Harry," Hermione sighed tiredly, stepping forward and putting her hands on his shoulders, "listen, I love you, you know that. You're the only family I have in this world, but if it's ever come down to siding with me or Ron, it's always been Ron who has your devotion."

"That's not..." Harry gasped, frowning at her as she nodded, "I haven't... Hermione…"

"That's how it always goes, Harry," Hermione shrugged, stepping away and returning to Neville's side, "and if that's how it's going to be even now, when my life is at risk, then I can't have you putting me in more danger because of your dedication to someone I believe should be a suspect."

"You're both my best friends," Harry sighed, scratching his neck, "I can't just choose between you, it's not fair."

"No, it's not," she shrugged, smiling sadly, "but you've done it before and you'll do it again, Harry. Honestly, I'm kind of used to it, as pathetic as it makes me."

"I'm sorry-"

"I know," she said, holding her hand up to stop him, "now, it's late and I'd like to go to bed. I'm sure Ginny is missing her husband, too."

"But-"

"We'll come and see you on Monday, Harry," Neville said loudly, picking up the floo powder and holding it out for him in a clear dismissal, "go home."

Once Harry had left, having not muttered another word but just frowning at them both before he disappeared, Hermione turned into Neville and allowed herself to cry. She felt awful at having just been like that with Harry, but she had spoken nothing but the truth. From first year, when Ron had been awful to her and through third year and their many falling outs, it had always been the same. Harry would stand by Ron, even if he knew that Hermione didn't deserve it and she knew that even now it would be no different. It broke her heart, knowing that she had just essentially forfeited her best friend, but she looked up to Neville and the soft, proud smile he gave her lifted her spirits, if only by the smallest amount.

"Did I do the right thing?" She whispered and Neville nodded, brushing the hair from her face with both hands.

"I think so," he sighed, kissing her forehead before pulling back slightly to look at her again, "he can't see past his friendship with Ron. We need someone who isn't tied to either of you, but I think I know just the person, someone away from the ministry altogether."

"You do?" Hermione frowned and Neville nodded, smiling.

"What do you remember about Ernie Macmillan?"


End file.
